


Giving in Is Half the Battle

by AngelsintheImpala (Halzbarry)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accountant Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha Dean, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Office, Bossy Castiel, Businessman Dean, Friends With Benefits, Heat Sex, Implied Mpreg, Independent Castiel, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Minor Aaron Bass/Dean Winchester, Minor Ezekiel | Gadreel/Castiel, Minor Inias/Castiel, Minor Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester, Mutual Pining, Office Sex, Omega Castiel, Pining, Rut Sex, Sandover Bridge & Iron Inc., Scenting, Stubborn Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-04 22:09:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 54,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12780606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halzbarry/pseuds/AngelsintheImpala
Summary: Dean likes to think he had it all; a good job, good money, kickass friends, and hell, no shortage of men and women in his bed. He’s an alpha living the dream. The one thing he didn’t have was a mate.Castiel prides himself on being a pinnacle of the modern omega. He works hard and he sleeps with whoever he wants, society’s rules be damned. He spent a long time telling himself he didn’t need a mate to take care of him nor did he find himself wanting one anyways. Then Dean Winchester happened. Suddenly, being content with just sex is becoming a harder lie to tell himself, especially as Dean makes it clear he wants more.What started as a simple hook-up after the annual Sandover Christmas party last year has turned into a loosely agreed upon friends with benefits arrangement; Minus the friends part. Dean knows they’re compatible enough to be mates, but Cas just can’t seem to be convinced.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So wow this is my first full length Destiel fic and first DCBB ever, and I have to give a shout out to the amazing [Steffi](http://diminuel.tumblr.com/) for providing such amazing art for my fic! Her art truly inspires me and I'm so lucky she chose my fic amongst others and writing her own DCBB to draw for! And then on top of that I can't say thanks enough to [Frecks](http://casloveshisfreckles.tumblr.com/) and [Fan](http://fanforfanatic.tumblr.com/) for all the beta-reading and support they've given me! This fic couldn't have been done without you all! 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading and I hope you enjoy this fic!

 

 

 

It was the rustling in the bed that stirred Dean from his heavy slumber. His bedroom was pitch black, save for the faint glow of the streetlamps outside his apartment window that filtered in. Dean turned to look at his alarm clock; it only read three in the morning, still hours before he had to wake up for work.

He felt the bed shake again and wiped the sleep from his eyes to see the dark figure belonging to Castiel stretching as he pulled himself off Dean’s oversized queen bed.

“Goddamnit, Cas. You couldn’t keep your ass in bed a little while longer?” Dean grumbled wearily. He would’ve pitched a bigger fit, but Castiel was standing in all his naked glory, illuminated by the faint light.

He especially loved seeing Castiel’s toned, thick thighs and ass. To Dean, Castiel was the epitome of omega beauty. More than the way he looked, though, Dean loved Castiel’s scent. He smelled of cinnamon and honey; _of home_.

Dean had to remind himself that he wasn’t allowed to read too much into this.

“I apologize, Dean. I had no intention of waking you,” Castiel muttered, his deep, raspy voice almost like a lullaby in his delirium.

“Yeah, well, you get a C for effort.” Dean sat up in the bed, letting the cover fall down to expose his naked chest to the cold of his apartment. “Still not sure how you’re so mobile after what we did a few hours ago.”

Castiel turned back to him and laughed a little, and Dean felt an ache in his chest.

“I think my body has had more than adequate time to adjust to your knot by now. Though I quite enjoyed your enthusiasm while you were eating me out. That was an unexpected surprise.”

Dean could already feel the blood rushing south. Any time Castiel talked dirty it did things to him. He found it hotter that behind that polite, boring accountant guise, lay an omega with the filthiest mouth he’d ever heard.

“Jesus, Cas. Warn a guy before you try and get him excited for round three,” Dean said, ignoring the interested twitch of his cock.

Castiel smirked. “I assure you, there will be no round three tonight. Maybe next time.”

Dean watched as Castiel reached for his clothes scattered about on Dean’s floor, holding strong to the promise of next time like he always did.

A familiar silence settled upon the room. In that silence he registered how gross he was; sweat, come, and slick all dried on his body. They reeked of each other, and Dean loved every second of it. But that was all he was allowed to have.

“You know, you can stay until morning, Cas. No sense in you running out this late,” Dean offered, but he already knew what Castiel’s reply would be. He’d known it ever since they fell into this routine over a year ago.

“Thank you, Dean. But I should return home. We both have to be at work early tomorrow,” Castiel answered matter-of-factly. Castiel had perfected the ability to show no emotion. He wanted no-strings-attached sex, and it was the only reason he was here with Dean now. He assumed Dean wanted the same thing and they had a mutual agreement. Little did he know how Dean really felt.

“Cas, we work at the same office. I can drive you there and back to your place, no problem.”

Castiel sighed and Dean prepared for the rejection like always. “Dean. You know that’s not how this works. We have a good time and then we go our separate ways. That’s it.”

“Yeah. Yeah I know. Just offerin’ is all.”

Castiel put his shirt back on, but offered Dean a tiny smile.

“I appreciate it.”

Dean wanted to keep insisting he stay, wanted to tell Cas he belonged here with him like he felt deep down in his gut. Instead, he just watched tiredly as Castiel threw on yesterday’s slacks.

“You can go back to sleep, Dean. I’ll see myself out,” Castiel urged softly.

“Nah. I’ll be up for the rest of the night anyways.” It wasn’t a lie. It was always hard for Dean to go back to sleep when Castiel’s scent was absent from his apartment. His slick was dried into his sheets, so unless Dean washed them he’d be faintly smelling Cas. There was also that part of Dean that wanted Cas to feel a little guilty.

Cas didn’t rise to the bait though. He found his shoes and slid them on before walking out of the bedroom, stopping just before the door to say, “Good night, Dean.”

“Yeah, night, Cas.”

Dean sat and started at the wall, ignoring the sound of his front door closing and the sudden absence of Cas’ strong scent. He debated trying to go back to sleep, but he knew that would simply result in fruitless tossing and turning. He had to be up in less than three hours anyways, so it almost wasn’t worth trying, but still he closed his eyes.  One of these days he’d get tired of fighting the inevitable.

He’d be able to survive tomorrow at least. He’d just have to be heavily caffeinated all day. Caffeine and work would suffice as a distraction. His and Cas’ paths didn’t cross at all during work hours, which was for the best. Castiel’s scent would elicit very inappropriate reactions from him at work, and Dean really liked his job at Sandover.

If he was smart, he’d have gotten up to wash his sheets and remove as much of Cas’ scent from the place as he could. Instead, he tried futilely to hold on to it as much as he could by staying right where he was, bundled up in the sheets. He’d get up soon but for now, he was just going to hold on to this for a little while longer.

______________________________________________

 

Cas leaving him in the middle of the night turned out to be the least of Dean’s problems. His entire morning could only be described as one giant clusterfuck.

For starters, he had fallen back asleep after an hour. He’d missed all three of his alarms— even the loud blaring of Zeppelin's “Ramble On” hadn’t stirred him. When Dean woke, it was already seven thirty, which gave him thirty minutes to get to work.

Problem two was discovered after he jumped out of his rushed shower, realizing he was out of blockers. Dean’s musk was more often than not an asset, especially when making business deals. But the day after he and Cas had slept together for the first time, he’d gone into the office and was immediately pulled aside by Charlie, so she could point out exactly who he smelled like.

She gave him some of her omega scent blockers, and from that moment on he kept a steady supply on hand. But the last two weeks he’d been so busy schmoozing their latest clients to land a new contract, he’d completely forgotten to run by the store to buy another batch.

That meant Charlie would be his first stop before he got to his office. The last thing he needed was to sit in Adler’s office smelling like Sandover’s top accountant.

On top of it all, that longing feeling that nagged in his chest when Castiel left was still there. He couldn’t turn it off. All he could do was bury himself in work to drown it out. Hanging out with Charlie and Benny helped distract him too.

Calling Sam occasionally gave him some relief, but lately Sam was becoming part of the problem. Sure, it came from concern, but Dean wasn’t interested in hearing Sam insist that he needed to find someone to settle down with. He still hadn’t told Sam about his and Cas’ arrangement; the last thing he needed was his little brother, the prodigious, alpha attorney married to a beautiful beta with a brand new baby, commenting about his piss-poor life.

By the time he was out of his apartment and walking through the doors to the office, he had maybe ten minutes before he was supposed to be in Adler’s office for a meeting. God, he hated that man’s penchant for eight a.m. meetings.

First things first, he was on a mission to find Charlie.

He rushed past the secretary, offering a quick wave and good morning before hopping into the first available elevator, pressing the close button desperate not to let anyone in, before stabbing the button for the 4th floor.

When the doors opened, he made a beeline for Charlie’s cubicle, praying to whatever god that would listen that she was there. He kept getting side-eyes from the people as he passed. It was rare that anyone went to the IT floor, much less management from other departments like Dean. The manic look plastered on his face was no doubt encouraging their puzzled glances.

When he rounded the corner, he felt blessed when the long, fire red, locks belonging to Charlie hit his sight. She turned around and gave him an unimpressed look.

“Dean, it is too early to be—” she stopped dead in the middle of her sentence only to give Dean a wide-eyed stare, sniffing the air around them. “Holy Batman and Robin, you smell like—”

“Shhhh!” Dean shushed, throwing her a glare. “You and I need to talk. _Privately._ And bring your purse.”

Charlie sighed and rolled her eyes before she followed Dean off the floor and over to the bathrooms.

“Dean! What the hell were you thinking coming in here smelling like Castiel! I thought you said you two were done,” she berated as they huddled away from listening ears.

“Look, we can talk about Cas later. I just need your blockers. I ran out, and I’ve got a meeting with Adler in less than five minutes.”

“You are so lucky I bought more the other day. You owe me, Dean. This stuff is not cheap, and I don’t exactly make management money like you do.”

Charlie dug through her purse and fished out the scent blockers which looked essentially like glorified deodorant. He took them from her before unbuttoning his shirt and quickly slathering the gel across his chest and body.

“Geez, save some for me,” she said, giving him a slightly judgmental look. “You and Castiel got _that_ down and dirty?”

“Charlie, stop. I said we’re not talking about this now,” Dean cut in hastily.

“No, we are talking about this now, because this—” she motioned towards him, “This can’t keep happening.”

“ _This_ hasn’t happened in long time,” Dean challenged.

“Oh really? How about last month when you almost missed your big client meeting because you could hardly get out of bed after—”

“Alright! We’ll talk about it later. But until then, you better not tell Benny. God knows I don’t need to hear it from him today too.”

“I make no promises. Now you better go, you’re already late for your meeting with Adler.”

“Son of a bitch!”

The morning was pretty much shot for Dean. He could only hope that Adler had gotten news from the new clients that would put him in a good mood because if not today was going to be hell.

______________________________________________

 

Dean hated the executive floor. The air was stifling to Dean, full of nothing but power hungry alphas whipping their metaphorical dicks out, pumping out as much aggro-alpha pheromones as they could. They were the sharks of the organization, and Zachariah Adler was one of them. They could make or break anyone they wanted, and five times out of ten these alphas were the source of Dean’s headaches. Castiel was the remaining five.

Dean still wasn’t sure if he reeked of Cas, but by the time the elevator opened, he didn’t have time to worry about it. Adler was a stickler for being on time and Dean was already three minutes late.

The secretary for the executive floor didn’t spare him a passing glance as he walked through; he took that as a good sign that nothing seemed too off, but he wouldn’t know for sure until he met face to face with Zachariah.

With a deep breath, he walked up to his boss’ office and knocked a few times.

“If that’s you Dean-o, you better get your ass in here,” Zachariah called out.

Dean sighed, letting the frustration he’d spent the next last minutes holding in, fade from his expression before opening the door.

His balding boss was seated behind his desk, staring at the papers in his hand, and, like the secretary at the front, didn’t bother to look up as Dean walked in.

“Sorry I’m late, Mr. Adler. I had a… rough morning,” Dean quickly apologized as he closed the door behind him.

“Water off a duck’s back, Winchester. What’s a few minutes here and there for our top producing director,” Zachariah dismissed.

Now that comment had Dean puzzled. They got along well enough, but Zachariah Adler was not a very complimentary person unless someone had done something that made him look good.

His confusion was cleared up when the papers Adler was holding were shoved across the desk at him. He scanned them quickly to see that they were, in fact, a contract, signed by the clients he’d spent the last couple of weeks buttering up.

“Dean, my boy, you reeled in another one. Two million dollars going into the company account and all because of you. Congratulations are in order.”

Dean let himself relax just a little and felt a tiny smile start to form on his lips.

“Well, that’s kind of you, sir. I’m just glad to do my part for the company.”

Zachariah stood up and started pacing the room, making Dean feel slightly nervous. Adler was still very much exuding his alpha pheromones, in a vain attempt to establish dominance. Dean was hardly affected by it; all it did was irritate his nose.

“I know I’ve mentioned this once or twice, but Dean, but you are really showing senior management level promise. I mean, look at you: young, determined, and an alpha to boot.” Dean recoiled slightly at the last part.

Adler’s words reminded him that while Sandover was moving in the right direction in regards to omega relations, there was still that thinly veiled layer of prejudice against omegas, and favoritism towards alphas—alphas like Dean. Adler seemed to catch on to his thoughts, if the bemused look he gave Dean was any indication. “That is to say, while there’s no added value to you being an alpha, it does give you one more thing in common with the rest of the executives.”

“Uh—thank you—sir,” Dean managed.

“No need to thank me. You’ve put in your work, and Sandover wants to reward you for it.” There was something in the way Adler spoke that sent a question of authenticity shooting through Dean. “That being said, in order to get you there, we need to get you on a higher level project.”

“Okay,” Dean said hesitantly. “What type of project are you talking about?”

“I’m glad you asked.” Adler sat back down in his seat, twiddling his thumbs while getting an expression that signaled Dean was about to get some assignment he was going to hate. “Got some new clients. Filthy stinkin’ rich. They want to contract us to build a high-end restaurant here in town.”

“Alright, sounds easy enough.”

Zachariah held up his hands which put Dean on edge. “Slow down, Dean. These guys are no pushovers. They know their facts and numbers. A true alpha-omega pair, the two of them. They’ll smell right through any BS.”

“Not a problem,” Dean said, giving him a confident smirk. “I’ve handled tough clients before. I’ll knock ‘em out with the ole Winchester charm.”

“That’s what I like to see, Dean. That gusto is exactly why you’re the man for the job. You lock these clients down and they’ll bring the company millions, not to mention a very nice promotion for you, too.”

Dean didn’t like to think himself money-hungry, but he wasn’t one to shy away from the opportunity for a promotion. He’d heard several times that he was on track to be senior management, and now he could feel the fruits of his labor—all the late nights in the office editing architectural designs, revising expense reports, and traveling half across the country—finally paying off.

He chalked that up to Ellen and Bobby. Those two had hammered the need to succeed in him from the day they’d taken him and Sam in and raised them. Every promotion he got felt like his way to repay them.

“Yessir. I’ll be sure to dazzle them and make sure they sign with us,” Dean promised.

“I have no doubt you will. But there’s a little twist to this deal.”

“A—twist?” Dean asked, concerned.

“Nothing too big. It’s just the clients—well—they’re a very skeptical bunch. The alpha in particular is very big on precise numbers. Rough estimates and the such don’t cut it with her, so she requested that you work hand in hand with a numbers expert to get the job done.”

Dean felt a little flare of irritation spring up inside him. Who the hell was this client to doubt that Dean couldn’t crunch the numbers? Dean had landed multi-million dollar deals without even breaking a sweat.

“Calm it down, Winchester,” Adler interjected, and Dean felt a small flush creep in his cheeks at the fact that he’d let his boss scent his frustration.

“Sorry, sir,” Dean apologized.

Adler shrugged. “Happens to the best of us. Still, the client wants a numbers guy and that’s what we’ll give her.”

“Alright. I can work with that. I think I’ve got a couple of people on the team who can do the job,” Dean said, letting himself calm down a bit.

“Sorry, Dean. Turns out the senior leadership team already has someone in mind. Naomi, in particular, pushed for some stick-in-the-mud over in accounting to take the project. Wanna say he’s an omega too. She went on and on about how it’ll be good for the company image, show some alpha-omega solidarity, and blah blah blah. Whatever the case is, you and him need to wow the client.”

Dean’s mind already tuned Adler out after he heard the words accounting and omega. There were very few people who fit that bill, and he was confident his entire day was on a continued downward spiral in the toilet.

“So, any questions?” Adler asked, breaking him from his moment of panic.

“Uh—no sir. Not at all. I’ll get started on it right away.”

“Good man. You’ve got your first meeting with the clients this afternoon. Meeting’s already on your calendar. You and your partner better knock this out of the park, Dean. These guys are gonna bring us megabucks, and if we get megabucks you get a shiny new title and raise.”

“Yessir. I’ll get it done.”

Dean felt a wave of nausea wash over him. He wasn’t sure why he felt apprehensive about this project, but he couldn’t shake the feeling. But a promotion and a raise meant he couldn’t pass it up. He’d just grab a sprite and some toast from the cafeteria and swallow this feeling down.

He opened the door, but not before Adler cleared his throat one last time to get his attention.

“Make me proud, Dean. Big things are happening for you.”

Dean only hoped Adler’s words were true.


	2. Chapter 2

One of perks of Castiel’s job was his cubicle. It was the biggest of all the accountants, and it gave him bragging rights amongst all the others. It was most likely a coincidence, but the person with this cubicle was always promoted. That was why Castiel took  silent joy when the cubicle was offered to him over Bartholomew, the closest thing Castiel had to a mortal enemy, and a beta who seemed unconvinced that he was anything less than an alpha. 

Another perk was that it was sequestered away from the rest of the accounting floor, offering a fair amount of privacy in an office where there was so little. He could have conversations with no fear of anyone eavesdropping. 

He was thankful for that privacy when he had surprise visits from his unbearable friends. 

“Someone must have had a very good night since they didn’t call me or even bother to stop by my cubicle.”

Castiel glanced up from his computer screen to see Balthazar smirking down at him.

“My apologies, I found myself preoccupied,” Castiel went back to scanning the open spreadsheet on his computer screen.

“Cassie, Cassie, Cassie. You know, it’s a little too easy to tell when you’ve been rolling around in the sheets with a certain someone.” 

Castiel narrowed his eyes. “How so?” 

Balthazar shrugged. “Well for starters, you always forget our morning coffee break in the cafeteria. Oh, and thanks for that by the way. Because you forgot, I had to listen to Meg gossiping about that pretty blonde in HR. Now I have to find someone else to ask out to dinner.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

Castiel was actively trying his best to avoid looking at Balthazar because he, admittedly, felt more focused today than he had in the last couple of weeks, and didn’t want to waste a single moment of it.

He was also very aware of how little time he had to get his reports finished after he’d received a detailed email from the company CFO, Naomi Tapping, that he was now being placed on a new assignment with a high-profile client he was supposed to be meeting with in less than two hours.

“Seriously, Cassie. You look like you just took a Xanax which usually means you had good night.”

“I assure you, Balthazar, my night was very average.”

“Right,” Balthazar said, unconvinced. “And I’m sure all your  _ average _ nights involve banging that alpha of yours from Project Management.” Cas nearly choked on his breath, and Balthazar snickered. “Face it Cassie, Dean’s knot is like Prozac for your high-strung ass.” 

He didn’t want to admit Balthazar was right, but he felt quite refreshed when he woke up again this morning. He’d had so much energy he’d skipped the break room banter and coffee with Balthazar and Meg, a requirement most days if he wanted to be functional at all before lunch. And when he sat down at his desk, he’d been much more hyper aware of his work than usual. He’d caught three errors in these reports that would’ve cost the company potential thousands, and it was only ten-thirty.

His only complaint on such a productive day was that lingering rustic scent of pine and fresh mountain air wafting around his nose.

_ Dean. _

It was Dean who knew just how to scratch that itch he didn’t even know he had. He felt bad falling asleep at Dean’s because it was awkward for the both of them. They hooked-up and they went their separate ways, and he was not one to linger after a hook-up, even if that same hook-up only worked three floors above him.

Balthazar pulled up a chair to Castiel’s desk, blatantly ignoring the death glare Castiel was giving him like he always did. “So, when are you going to finally lock down that alpha of yours? You spend enough time with him as is,” Balthazar questioned.

That finally drew Castiel’s attention away from his computer, double-checking that he was at a point in the spreadsheet that he could look away before directing an unamused glance at his friend. 

“He is not my alpha, Balthazar. Dean and I, we have fun and that’s it. He’s no different than anyone else I sleep with,” Castiel corrected, knowing just how defensive he sounded.

Balthazar rolled his eyes. “You’re in so much denial it’s kind of cute.”

“Denial?” Castiel questioned irritably.

“C’mon, Cassie. We’ve been friends for almost six years now, and while I might be a beta, I can see exactly what that alpha does to you.” Balthazar shrugged, crossing his legs and leaning back in his chair. “It’s a miracle if someone makes it into your bed a second time, and then here comes Dean Winchester, who rocked your world so good he’s still your back-up booty call a year later.” 

Castiel sighed and tried to turn back to his work, but Balthazar moved in on him, leaning closer.

“Alphas don’t just keep sleeping with omegas purely for sex, Cassie. That man has it bad for you, and you don’t even realize you’ve got him wrapped around your finger.”

Castiel struggled to ignore him and focus on the numbers. Balthazar was wrong anyways. Dean was a good lay, and they agreed it was just sex. That’s all it was and all it ever would be. Castiel never wanted nor did he need an alpha. 

Unfortunately, a distraction from Balthazar took the unpleasant form of the last person he was interested in seeing right now. Bartholomew Harrington. 

“Hello, Castiel,” Bartholomew greeted, his even tone belying his contempt for Castiel. 

“Hello, Bartholomew,” Castiel sighed, not bothering to look up at the beta. 

Bartholomew was wearing too much cologne, a nauseating fragrance that would be considered alpha-like. He pitied Bartholomew’s strange need to position himself as an alpha, from the cologne, down to the variation of vibrant red ties he wore daily. Still, his pity nowhere near overshadowed his dislike of the obnoxious beta. 

“I hear congratulations are in order,” Bartholomew replied, now raising Castiel’s suspicions. 

Castiel kept typing, not bothering to look up once as he spoke, “And why would that be?” 

“I heard through the grapevine that Naomi’s handpicked you for a special project with a top client. Seems like a big deal, especially for you.”  _ Because you’re an omega.  _ The line went unsaid, but Castiel knew it was implied,  and he had to tamper down on his simmering anger. He did, however, take comfort in the poorly concealed jealousy lingering in Bartholomew’s tone.  

At one point in time, Bartholomew was the accountant being groomed to move up in the organization. Once Castiel came, she all but forgot about him, especially when Castiel proved he could do the job faster and better. Getting to stick it to Bartholomew, who held a contemptuous view of omegas in corporate positions, was a bonus. 

“Yes. It seems that’s the case.” Castiel studied him while Bartholomew adjusted his already straightened tie. “Is there something else I can do for you?” he asked, not bothering to hide his impatience towards the beta’s presence. 

“Nothing at all. I simply came to say congratulations and that I hope you do well. It would be a shame to let Naomi down. After all, you are her favorite.” 

Balthazar scoffed, capturing the attention of both Castiel and Bartholomew. Balthazar looked playfully puzzled, but Castiel knew Balthazar was more than aware of what he was doing. 

“Oh, my apologies. I’m deathly allergic to the scent of bitter jealousy. Gets me all choked up.”

Bartholomew’s nostrils flared while Castiel did little to hide his amused snicker. Bartholomew chose not to respond, instead storming away, a look of murder in his eyes directed at the two of them before disappearing back to his desk. 

“My God, he’s a twat,” Balthazar sighed. 

“Try dealing with him every day,” Castiel replied dryly. 

“I’ll pass on that. However, now that he’s gone, we can get back to what we were discussing beforehand. What was it again…” Balthazar said, taking a dramatic pause while Castiel rolled his eyes, “Oh right. Your refusal to admit that you’re secretly pandering after Dean Winchester’s knot.”

Castiel rolled his eyes and sighed. “Bal, I really need to get this report and spreadsheet turned in before three. So, unless you have something else to tell me that doesn’t involve Dean, I need to get back to work, and so should you.” 

He wasn’t going to mention how Balthazar remained on probation at work half the time, mostly due to his lack of doing anything. They’d never fire him though because if there was one thing Balthazar did well as a marketing rep, it was schmoozing his way into cheaper advertisements for the company.  

“Oh, that’s right. You’ve got to get ready for your ‘special project’ from the big boss herself. Look at you Cassie, getting the recognition and respect you deserve and getting the haters too.”

Castiel snickered. “Hardly. If anything, my inclusion on this project is all for show— a display to prove that Sandover is an ‘omega friendly company’. I have no doubt, I’ll spend the majority of the time being bossed around by some incompetent alpha.”

“Well you won’t be getting promoted with that attitude. Who is the lucky alpha that will have the pleasure of your company for the next several months?”

Castiel shrugged and returned to his computer.

“Naomi didn’t say. All I know is it’s someone handpicked by the execs. I’ll let you know when I find out in my meeting this afternoon. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to finish and send these reports before then.”

“Fine, fine. I can see I’m not wanted here. But I’m telling you, Cassie, you should lock down Winchester before someone else snatches him up. Word on the street is he’s got a steady stream of people knocking on his door,” Balthazar said, shrugging defeated, but Castiel could feel the smugness lurking beneath his demeanor.

“ _ Goodbye _ , Balthazar.”

Balthazar winked at Cas before waltzing back off to the marketing department or more likely some other department to procrastinate on his job. It was a miracle that Balthazar remained employed at Sandover.

Castiel stared at the numbers in front of him, but his brain didn’t want to make sense of them like it did before. All he had on his brain were Balthazar’s words.

Castiel didn’t like to think himself an oblivious person, but surely he couldn’t be misreading his and Dean’s relationship, or lack thereof. Dean was an alpha, an alpha he knew for a fact enjoyed sex with other people just as much as he did. When he met Dean last year, he heard the rumors about him. An alpha who, one minute, could fuck you like a god, but, in the next, would break your heart. Dean didn’t like relationships, which was perfect for Castiel. He was too busy running circles around the other accountants, mostly Bartholomew, to prove how much better than them he was, even as the only omega in the department.

Dean was a good lay, and that’s what he kept telling himself as he resumed auditing and revising the spreadsheets in front of him.

______________________________________________

 

Castiel rarely found himself on the eighth floor for obvious reasons, the biggest being Dean Winchester.

Castiel had looked Dean up in the company after the first time they’d slept together and found out he was a Project Manager which meant practically lived on the eighth floor. The problem with the eighth floor was that it had the nicest conference rooms, so whenever Castiel was called into a meeting, which thankfully was rare, he had to come up here. His only saving grace was that Dean’s office was on the other end of the floor.

He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to avoid Dean. They’d bumped into each other at various work events before, and both had perfected the art of treating one another like strangers. He’d never been much of a fan of befriending his one night stands. Something about it felt disingenuous. He liked sex and he moved on. He didn’t like to give hope that there could be more. But Dean was different. Somehow, Castiel couldn’t get enough of him despite that nagging voice in his mind that told him to stop. 

Perhaps it was the fact that he was an omega. While omegas had come a long way in the business world, a stigma still existed. Dean was an alpha, and not just any alpha. If the rumor mill was to be believed, Dean was an alpha on his way to the top.

Castiel was something of a rising star as well. He had dreams and aspirations much higher than a staff accountant. He’d spent months, years proving day in and day out that no one could do the job better than him, be it an alpha, beta, or omega.  He would make this project a success, and damn any alpha who’d dare try to push him out of the way. 

When the elevator opened, Castiel halted as his nostrils were assaulted with a familiar scent. Even on a floor full of alphas and betas, he somehow managed to only pick out Dean’s scent. He swallowed the conflicting feelings the mountain pine scent brought him and pressed on towards the conference room.

As he walked, he casually scanned the room for any signs of him, but on the open floor all he saw were desks full of architects, their drawings and empty coffee cups strewn about—every single person in some varying state of distress as they worked diligently on their computers or sketch pads.

When he slipped into the conference room he was assigned in the meeting invite, he found himself alone. He only allowed himself a moment to wonder about this mysterious client, about this alpha he’d no doubt be expected to ‘bend over’ for. He wondered just how pissed off they’d be when they realized that he had zero intention of doing that.

That sense of wonder was short-lived, and in its place a strong sense of panic erupted inside him.

“ _ Cas _ ?”

That voice sent a shock down his body. That scent—that same scent that had been floating around in his head all day even after the shitload of dampener’s he’d put on—filled the room.

When the door to the conference room opened Castiel turned around, but Dean had already beat him to the shocked and stupefied gaze in his rich green eyes.

“Dean, what are you doing here?” It was a stupid question. He already knew exactly why Dean was here.

“I’ve got a meeting with a client,” Dean said quieter as if still trying to figure out this puzzle. “Jesus… don’t tell you’re the numbers guy?”

“Pardon?” Castiel questioned, his face impassive as he attempted to regain some control over the wave of awkwardness he was currently awash in.

“Sorry,” Dean quickly apologized. “It’s just—Adler said I’d be working on this project with a numbers guy, and… fuck,” Dean sighed, not even bothering to finish his sentence.

“It seems we were both assigned to the same client,” Castiel commented plainly.

“Yeah, no shit.”

Castiel could smell frustration coming off Dean in waves, and it was doing nothing to ease Castiel’s own worry. Combined with the fact that he was confused at how aware he was of the change in Dean’s scent, it was a miracle he hadn’t panicked and run out of the conference room yet.

Neither of them knew what to say, so they stood in silence.

“Look, Cas, I don’t know about you, but I really can’t afford to step away from this project,” Dean finally said.

“I don’t think either of us can. We were both handpicked for this by senior management which means it would kill our careers if we did.”

Castiel watched with a betrayed interest as Dean ran his slender fingers through his hair, and he realized he was wholly unprepared to deal with Dean this close at their place of work.

“So what do we do, Cas?”

“We treat this like any other project. You and I are not mates,” Castiel stopped when he saw Dean look up at him, green eyes filled with something that looked like confusion and hurt, and he only slightly felt like an asshole for stating that so bluntly. “We haven’t broken any rules, so as long as we maintain our professionalism, then we will be fine.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re right,” Dean said, his voice a bit softer this time. “We get through this client meeting and then we can figure out the rest later.”

Castiel nodded which was all he could bring himself to do.

It was a knock on the door to the conference room that startled both of them into silence. When the door opened, Zachariah Adler was the first to walk in followed by two people that Castiel recognized as Chuck and Amara Shurley. The Shurleys were restaurant royalty. The brother and sister duo had been on the cover of every food magazine, guest stars on every cooking show, and owned and operated several five star restaurants across the country.

Amara Shurley was the most striking of the two. Gorgeous long brown hair fell down past her shoulders in loose curls, and she wore a black power suit that complimented the piercing look in her eyes. Chuck Shurley was just the opposite. He looked uncomfortable in his grey suit, and his beard was long overdue for a trim. Where Amara was intense, Chuck was laid back and smiling.

“Here they are,” Zachariah said, a smarmy smile on his face as he turned to Dean. “I’d like to introduce you both to Chuck and Amara Shurley.”

Dean stepped forward with his hand outstretched for them to shake.

“Pleasure to meet you both,” Dean greeted with a warm smile.

Chuck was the first to accept the handshake, grinning all the while. “Dean, huh? Good to meet you. Zachariah says you’re the man for the job.”

“Well, Mr. Adler isn’t wrong. I’ll make sure you two get the best that Sandover has to offer,” Dean said. Castiel envied Dean’s ability to charm people like that, especially given their current predicament.  

Amara studied Dean as she shook his hand, and it dawned on Castiel that she was sizing him up. Castiel could tell now that she was an alpha. However, Dean seemed content to let her do so without a challenge and she seemed to relax around him, a tiny smile playing at her ruby red lips.

“Oh, and this is Castiel Novak. He’s in accounting,” Adler said as almost an afterthought. Castiel expected nothing less from Zachariah. He was a symptom of the old school of thought on omegas. They didn’t belong in the workplace, and if they had to be, they should be secretaries not accountants.

Amara surprised them all when her interest shifted from Dean to Castiel before slowly approaching him.

“You’re the one Naomi told me about. She gave you a glowing recommendation,” Amara said. Her voice hardly revealed any emotion outside of a casual curiosity, but he’d seen her judging chefs on television and to get even a small compliment from her was a feat in and of itself.

“Thank you.”

Now that she was so close Castiel could smell her. It was a strong alpha scent once you were up close, one that commanded attention from all around her. He knew instantly that she was the one to please. 

“So, should we get this thing started? Amara and I have to be on a plane to New York to tape Chopped Junior in a few hours,” Chuck asked.

“Uh, sure. We can sit down and talk,” Dean said nervously.

Castiel could sense that Dean was still slightly off kilter, and he wasn’t in a much better spot either. While they still hadn’t recovered from the revelation they were working together, the Shurleys had thrown a new wrench in the plan. Castiel knew it was rare for alphas in positions of power to really pay attention to omegas. It was just ingrained in them and the culture to pay more attention to the other alphas in the room.

“I’ll leave you four to talk it out. Dean, I expect to hear good things,” Zachariah commented as he dismissed himself from the room. Castiel didn’t miss how Zachariah addressed only Dean, but he was use to it from alphas like him. 

After he left, Amara and Chuck both took their seats next to one another on one side of the large mahogany table that filled a majority of the room. Castiel had taken his seat opposite Chuck, but still found himself unprepared when Dean sat right beside him.

“So, let’s start with the basics,” Dean started, “what brought you to Sandover today?”

“Straight to business. I like that, Mr. Winchester,” Amara said. Castiel could hear the amusement in her voice and for a moment he felt… irritated?

“Please, call me Dean.”

That brought another small smile to Amara’s face. “Alright,  _ Dean _ . I’ll let Charles explain.”  

Chuck cleared his throat while glaring at his sister for a brief moment. “First off, it’s Chuck, not Charles,” he was quick to correct. “But to answer your question, I’m sure you’re both aware that Amara and I run several high-end restaurants in New York, LA, and Atlanta.”

Dean laughed a little. “Kinda hard not to. You two are Food Network royalty. I don’t think I’ve missed a single episode of Chopped that you’ve been on.”

Amara smiled hungrily at Dean again, and Castiel’s irritation was blossoming into full blown jealousy. He didn’t like the feeling one bit.

“That’s good to hear, Dean,” Chuck continued on. “That being said, Amara and I want to expand our market into the Midwest. Amara had the idea to build a restaurant here and we heard you were the best company for the job.”

Castiel was taking notes diligently in his portfolio while Dean did the same.

“Alright, so we’re looking to build a high-end restaurant. Do we have a time frame for completion?” Dean followed up.

“Uh—I’ll defer to Amara on that one,” Chuck said hesitantly.

Castiel was getting a clear picture of their relationship. Amara was the more business-minded sibling, which fit her being the alpha. Chuck was silly, personable, and laidback. They were the perfect compliment to each other.

“Ideally, we’d like to have this up and running within a year. If we’re impressed with the work you do, we’d look to have Sandover design and oversee construction of another two restaurants.”

“And do you have a certain budget?” Castiel finally spoke up to ask.

All eyes turned to him, but he kept his gaze impassive, especially as he felt Dean’s eyes on him.

“I’m glad you asked, Mr. Novak. Charles and I have put together a presentation to show you. Hopefully this will answer any questions you may have about the project,” Amara answered.

It was Chuck who moved to set up the presentation on the laptop, and Castiel was about to offer his assistance to the man, but his attention was glued to Amara and Dean. Castiel could faintly scent alpha desire in the air, but it was his own acrid sense of emotions and pheromones that caught him most off-guard. Dean struck up a small conversation with her, a small smile on his smooth lips, but from what Castiel could tell, it was not reciprocating the fierce attention Amara gave him.  

He was not jealous of Amara.

Sure, she was beautiful, rich, and an alpha.

But Dean was not his and that’s how he prefered it. He didn’t want to be mated or married. So, Dean and Amara could do whatever they pleased.

Still, he wished this meeting could be over so he could be free to return to the comfort of the accounting floor.

He had a feeling he wouldn’t be so lucky.

______________________________________________

 

Chuck and Amara had a lengthy presentation, but it highlighted everything Castiel would need to do. Their timeline was ambitious, but Castiel knew he could easily crunch the numbers to keep up with project. It was Dean who would have to do the most work.

The design and initial budget deadlines were closer than either of them anticipated which meant that he and Dean would be spending more time together sooner rather than later.

“Thank you for coming down to meet with us,” Dean said as he stood to shake hands with the two of them again.

“The pleasure was all ours, Dean. Both Charles and I will be checking our emails for the first draft of the timeline,” Amara said, her handshake with Dean taking a little too long.

Chuck on his part sighed exasperatedly as he shook Castiel’s hand. “Siblings, amirite?”

Castiel chuckled. “My brothers are the same way.”

Amara cleared her throat and they both turned to see a look in her eyes that clearly signaled she was ready to leave.

“Good to meet you,” Chuck muttered before returning to his sister’s side.

“We’ll be in touch soon,” Amara said, throwing one last look Dean’s way before the two siblings disappeared out of the conference room.

Castiel felt like he could breathe for the first time since the two had entered the room. Dean seemed to relax too, plopping down in a chair and slouching back like he’d been standing all day.

“Jesus, that timeline is gonna kick my ass,” he griped.

“Their project does seem very… ambitious,” Castiel added.

“Who’re you tellin’? I’m gonna be working a shit-ton of late nights to get that initial design ready. And that’s if I ignore all the other shit Adler’s got me doing.”

“Sounds like you have a lot to attend to. I’ll get out of your hair.”

Castiel didn’t want it to look like he was running away, but he was in no mood to be in the same space as Dean. Not until he had a chance to process how to handle this situation. He made a move towards the door, but Dean reached out and grabbed his arm.

“Cas, wait,” Dean halted.

Castiel turned around and pinned Dean with a disconcerted look, only to be met with puzzled green eyes in return.

“What?”

“Look, we should—uh—talk about this… us.”

“Dean, there’s not much to talk about.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Like hell there’s not. My dick was in your ass not even ten hours ago, and now we’re working on a project together.”

Castiel snatched his arm away at Dean’s words. Normally, he enjoyed Dean’s crassness. It was a refreshing break from the bureaucratic office doublespeak he was accustomed too. Now, at work where others could hear, he felt infuriated. Maybe it was because he was scared what others would think of him sleeping with Dean. Maybe it was the fact that he was being forced to face a reality he much preferred to ignore.

“Dean, there is nothing to discuss. Yes, we sleep together sometimes. However, I fully expect that we can both act like professionals and work on this project with no issue,” he fired back.

Dean stared dumbfounded at him for a moment, but after a very tense moment of silence, Dean’s face softened into quiet resignation.

“You know what, you’re right, Cas.”

Castiel ignored that stabbing pain in his chest that told him he should comfort Dean—comfort  _ his alpha _ . And it was for the simple fact that Dean was not his alpha and he was no one’s omega.

“I will see you soon, Dean. Feel free to email or call me to set up any meetings regarding the project.”

Castiel didn’t wait for Dean’s response and instead retreated quickly from the floor to the safety of the stairwell, holding onto the railing to steady himself. He wouldn’t let himself crack around Dean Winchester. He needed a plan to regain control of this situation. He would not allow his biology to force him into making a mistake. Castiel needed to get over Dean Winchester and fast.

His job and reputation would be at stake if he didn’t.


	3. Chapter 3

The first time Dean hooked-up with Cas it was the first time he’d ever laid eyes on the omega accountant.

It started at the Sandover annual Christmas party. Dean, Charlie, and Benny had pre-gamed with the plan to do their usual ‘show our faces and scram’ routine so they could hit the bars later.

Things fell apart quickly when Benny and Charlie had left Dean alone.

He was looking for them when he’d first laid eyes on a man with disheveled dark brown hair and intense, electric blue eyes looking right back at him while standing alone in the corner. His scent had cut above everyone else’s and Dean was already hooked. Him looking like something out of Dean’s wet dream was an added bonus, especially with the way his shirt was undone just enough that Dean could drink in the sight of his exposed collarbones.

Dean had enough drunken courage to make his move, and all he could remember was the unimpressed once-over Cas gave him. And then somehow, Cas decided to spare him a little bit of time. Dean vaguely remembered Cas saying he worked in accounting and had been for a few years, but Dean clearly remembered the craving as he stared at the curve of Cas’ hips and those chapped lips he wanted on his.

He vividly remembered that Cas was the one who finally pulled them away to a janitor’s closet and devoured his mouth, tongue sliding against Dean’s while he practically kissed Dean sober.

After that, they’d somehow inconspicuously excused themselves from the party and back to Dean’s apartment where Cas proceeded to ride him like a world-class porn star. Slick leaked everywhere and the scent of honey and cinnamon filled Dean’s nostrils as Cas pinned him down, taking his cock like he owned it. Dean came seeing stars and knotted harder than he ever had before.

But just like that the fantasy was over, and Cas had quickly excused himself from Dean’s apartment. When Dean woke the next morning, he felt a foreign pull in his chest like a yearning or longing, and that’s when Dean realized he might’ve found his mate.

It took three days, but after a lot of encouragement and pushing from Charlie, Benny, and Sam he went to accounting to find Cas. When he found him though, sitting at his desk, staring intently at his dual computer screens and ignoring the world around him, Dean could smell the fresh, repulsive stench of Cas’ scent mixed with the scent of another alpha. It made him want to vomit, and for a two solid days, he felt like his entire life had turned upside down.

He realized then that he was a one and done deal for Cas. They had their fun and he had to move on. So Dean went back to his office and pretended like Cas didn’t exist four floors below him.

Two weeks later they found themselves in the same bar, this time Cas with some beta guy. Dean had panicked, but said hi when Cas had noticed him. That pull between them returned. Dean couldn’t keep his eyes off Cas, and Cas hadn’t been able to spare his date more than a few moments of attention. The entire time Cas’ blue eyes were boring into Dean’s skin.

By night’s end Cas had ditched his date and ended up back at Dean’s, face shoved into Dean’s mattress while demanding Dean fuck him harder. After that, they’d somehow fallen into a routine. Numbers were traded and Dean got stuck, yearning for the untamable omega with blue eyes and constant bedhead. He was Cas’ booty call when Cas was bored or horny, and a stranger when Cas was not.

But Dean put up with it. He put up with fucking Cas while the scent of other alphas and betas lingered on his skin. He put up with the rumors of Cas hooking up with others that weren’t him. He put up with it because he just wanted Cas any way he could have him.

Dean knew Charlie and Benny thought it was pathetic, and for a while he didn’t care.  

But now their routine was all but destroyed because they had to interact outside of the bedroom and the bars, and Dean sure as hell didn’t know how to do that.

_______________________________________

 

“Dean, you need to calm down. You’re making the place smell like worried alpha which just so happens to smell like wet dog,” Charlie cautioned from where she was sprawled out on his couch, typing away on her phone.

“She ain’t kiddin, brother. It’s a little much,” Benny added. “You ain’t smelled right this entire week. Even your own team is complaining.”

“Well, I’m sorry that my pheromones smell like a dog’s ass, but seeing as how I have to spend the next several months working next to the guy that I want to mate but doesn’t want me back, funky smelling pheromones are all I got,” Dean barked.

To say Dean was on edge was an understatement. He and Cas hadn’t talked all week save for a few short emails here and there. Dean knew it was a bad idea to be so frank after their last meeting with Chuck and Amara, but it had to be said. But now it seemed like Cas was avoiding him, and the alpha part of him was both depressed and irritable.

“I don’t know. Can’t you pass the project off to someone else? I’m sure Benny or even Victor could take it,” Charlie suggested.

“I already offered, chère. Dean here said no,” Benny chimed-in.

“I can’t pass it off. This project is my ticket to a promotion. If I screw this up or give it to someone else I can kiss my future at Sandover good-fucking-bye. It’s already bad enough that I got Garth helping me with the designs.” Which reminded him, he needed to buy Garth a gift card or something.

“And I take it, Cas ain’t too much interested in stepping away either?” Benny inquired.

Dean scoffed. “You kidding me? Cas hates the whole thing. But Naomi made him do it, and you can’t say no to senior management. They needed to stick a hardworking omega on the project for company PR and Cas fit the bill.”

Benny took a swig of his beer before letting out a refreshed sigh. “Looks like you're stuck then, Dean. My recommendation? Find a way to co-exist. No sex, no nothin’. Just business until you get this project sorted out.”

Charlie laughed and Dean snapped his head at her, holding back a snarl.

“Sorry, but that’s just not possible with those two. How long did you make it without sleeping together that last time you swore you’d quit Cas?” she asked.

Two weeks exactly. Dean knew because it felt like a knife each time Cas sent him the usual text and he couldn’t respond. After the fourteenth day and a large ass glass of whiskey, he’d caved and let Cas come over. That was a fun time when Cas had fucked him instead.

“For your information, Charlotte, Cas made it pretty clear there wasn’t anything else going on, so right now, the sex is dead,” Dean snapped. “Now I’m stuck wanting to mate a guy who wants nothing to do with me. Any bright ideas how to fix that?”

Charlie sat up and rolled her eyes. “The way I see it, you have three options if you want to survive this. One, you and Cas fuck it out and get it out of your systems now. Two, you tell him exactly how you feel and see where it goes. Or, three, you move on and find someone else.”

“Well you can go ahead and toss the second option. I sure as hell ain’t sharing my feelings,” Dean swiftly answered.

He pondered the rest of her suggestions, but each one added more and more to the problem. Moving on from Cas wouldn’t be hard, on the surface at least. He’d been on dates and he’d slept with a few other people in between Cas. Lisa and Aaron were his biggest hook-ups outside of Cas, and Lisa had been hanging on to the hopes for more. Aaron not so much. But Dean wasn’t an asshole and he knew it was unfair to them to commit to anything more than the occasional hook-up.

Then there was Amara. Dean could smell desire and lust as well as any other alpha, and boy was she reeking of it. She was a client sure, but he had no doubt she gets what she wants. And while she wasn’t bad looking, it was everything not to focus on Cas sitting beside him the whole time.

“I don’t know. Maybe I should text Cas and ask him out for dinner or something. We can set the boundaries there and make this as painless as possible.”

“I don’t know, Dean. Sounds mighty dangerous meeting him anywhere that’s not company property, don’t you think?” Benny questioned.

Dean turned to Charlie whose face indicated she agreed with his question.

Dean sighed and plopped down into his kitchen chair.

“Damnit, why does Cas have to be so goddamn difficult?” he sighed.

“It’s cause he’s an omega,” Charlie answered. “I mean think about it, he’s like one of the only omegas in accounting right? And now he’s landed this huge project that could get him total street cred at Sandover. The last thing he wants to talk about or let slip is that he slept with the alpha working with him.”

_Shit._

He hated when Charlie was right. But what he hated even more was the precarious situation that Cas was in. If Dean got caught sleeping around, he’d get a slap on the wrist. Cas, though, he could be demoted or worse. The mentality regarding omegas was changing for sure, but he knew some change was still moving too slow.

“Damn, this sucks.”

“Them’s the brakes, brother.”

“It just doesn’t make any sense. Cas… he was leaking all these jealous pheromones everywhere when I was talking to Amara. Then suddenly, it’s just us two, and he gets pissed off and runs away like I did something to him,” Dean groaned.

“Maybe you didn’t smell it right?” Charlie shrugged. Dean knocked back the rest of his beer before moving to the kitchen counter and grabbing another from the six-pack Benny brought over.

“Look, if it’s one thing I know, it’s the smell of jealous omega, and that’s exactly how Cas smelled.” Dean took a deep breath for a second and calmed down. Rationality was escaping him in his quest to figure Cas out.

But therein lied his problem. Castiel Novak was nearly impossible to discern.

“You alright?” Benny asked.

“Yeah, I’m good. I think I know what I’m gonna do,” Dean answered.

He left the kitchen and disappeared into his bedroom to retrieve his laptop, opening it to make sure he had no incriminating evidence still open _(he’d been in a dry spell so porn was all he had)_ before returning to the kitchen _._

“What are you doing?” Charlie asked as Dean opened the internet and signed into his email.

“I’m taking Benny’s advice and I’m gonna meet with Cas on company grounds. It’ll be harder for him to say no, and we can keep it professional. Besides, Adler’s already getting antsy seeing me in my office all week.”

When his email pulled up, he created a new email and typed out his message to Cas.

_From: Dean Winchester <Winchester.Dean@SBII.org> _

_To: Castiel Novak <Novak.Castiel@SBII.org> _

_Subject: Meeting on Monday_

 

_Hey Cas,_

_Really think we should talk about the project and the upcoming deadlines. Think you can squeeze me in on Monday? Adler’s getting kinda antsy, and I think he’s waiting to see something before we send to Chuck and Amara. Anyways, let me know._

_Dean Winchester, R.A._

_Architectural Project Manager_

_Project Management_

_X1252_

 

He re-read it briefly before hitting send. It was already past business hours on Friday, so he wasn’t expecting Cas to see it or respond to it. Most days Dean worked later than everyone, and with this project looming, he’d already been staying in the office until six most days this week. It would only get worse the further in they went.

“Well, it’s done. I sent him an email asking to meet at work Monday,” Dean sighed.

“Good for you, Dean,” Benny congratulated.

Before Dean could hear whatever it was Charlie said to that, he saw the email notification pop-up, and felt his jaw drop when he saw Cas had replied back to him.

_From: Castiel Novak <Novak.Castiel@SBII.org> _

_To: Dean Winchester <Winchester.Dean@SBII.org> _

_Subject: RE: Meeting on Monday_

 

_Hello Dean,_

_I believe that we should meet as well. Naomi has also been inquiring about our progress and did not seem pleased that we hadn’t met yet. I’m free all morning Monday._

_Castiel Novak, MBA, CPA, CMA_

_Staff Accountant_

_Finance & Accounting _

_X4467_

 

That had been easier than he’d thought, but he also wondered if Cas was still at work, or was he like Dean and took a lot of his work home, buried under tons of spreadsheets he couldn’t possibly finish in one day. There was so much he didn’t know about Cas, and it pained him because many days he wanted to know everything about the man.

_From: Dean Winchester <Winchester.Dean@SBII.org> _

_To: Castiel Novak <Novak.Castiel@SBII.org> _

_Subject: Meeting on Monday_

 

_Sounds good, Cas. I’ll look at our calendars and send out a meeting invite. You know, just to be official and all that._

_Dean_

Since he had Cas pinned down for at least an hour on Monday, now came the hard part—getting up the courage to talk to him about the project and them. He drafted up a quick meeting invite and sent it before closing his laptop. He could’ve been working on the project, but like Benny and Charlie said, he’d been on edge all week, so the last thing he wanted to do was more work.

“So, what’s the plan, Dean?” Benny asked.

“I meet with Cas on Monday, and we iron this shit out once and for all,” Dean answered simply.

Benny shook his head and took another swig of his beer. “Good on ya. Now what are we doing tonight? Andrea gave me the night off from taking care of the littlun and I don’t wanna spend it sitting here discussing you and Cas not doing the dirty,” Benny said, laughing a little as Dean shot him a glare.

“Seriously! It’s Friday, we should do something!” Charlie exclaimed.

“We feelin’ getting shitfaced at the bars or we feelin’ games, beer, and pizza night?”

Charlie and Benny both looked each other before grinning at one another.

“Break out the board games, brother. Also, you’re buyin’ pizza as payback for smelling like dog ass all week,” Benny teased.

“Oh, fuck off,” Dean said laughing all the while. “I’m gonna kick both of your asses tonight.”

“Bring it, Winchester,” Charlie challenged.

Dean was thankful for Benny and Charlie. If it weren’t for them, he’d have probably been fired or lost his mind years ago at this job. But on Monday, he wouldn’t have them around to keep him in check. Even though it was two days away, he knew it would be the only thing on his mind until then.

______________________________________________

 

Despite the brief reprieve spending Friday night with Benny and Charlie had brought him, Dean spent the rest of the weekend doing the exact thing he didn’t want to do. His apartment had been a mess of sketches and empty coffee cups when he’d left that morning, and thus far, his desk at work didn’t look much better.

And to top it off, he had less than ten minutes until his meeting with Cas.

Dean was expecting some foreign alpha or beta’s scent rubbed all over Cas when they met, and he was anticipating having to quell that rage that would bloom right in the pit of his stomach. But lack of sleep, high stress, and an urge to make things right put Dean so on edge that he’d debated cancelling the whole thing.

But he couldn’t. He already had two emails this morning from Zachariah asking what the plan for the project was this week.

Not to mention he had an email from Amara requesting a copy of the timeline and preliminary sketches by end of the week so they could present it to the investors on Monday. That meant both his sketches and Castiel’s initial budget had to match.

His morning panic would’ve continued on with no end had he not gotten an IM from Charlie.

 **C. Bradbury:** You ready?

 **D. Winchester:** Ready for what?

 **C. Bradbury:** Don’t play dumb. Your meeting with you know who

Dean sighed. He didn’t want to discuss Cas anymore. The more he talked about Cas, the more his mind buzzed about the whole thing.

 **D. Winchester:** Just gonna go with the flow. Nothing 2 worry about

 **C. Bradbury:** First off when did you start using abbreviations? And going with the flow is why I’m worried

 **D. Winchester:** Learned from the best _Redheadlez4prez._ Don’t worry, Charlotte. I got this.

 **C. Bradbury:** You did not just use my gamer tag on the company chat server…

 **C. Bradbury:** Now I’ve got to wipe the chat server again. Thanks a lot Dean.

 **C. Bradbury:** You owe me dinner and a movie of my choice.

Dean laughed. He knew for a fact that Charlie did and said much worse on company time than playing Warcraft and League on her computer. How she didn’t get in trouble for any of it he wasn’t sure.

 **D. Winchester:** Fair enough. Better be soon before this project buries me 6 ft. under

His phone ringing stopped him from replying to her, and when he looked it was a number he didn’t know, but recognized was from inside the company at least.

“Winchester speaking,” he answered.

“Hello, Dean.” That sultry baritone belonging to Castiel made Dean freeze for a moment.

“Oh—uh—hey, Cas.”

“I hope I wasn’t interrupting something. I wanted to inquire where we were meeting. The invite you sent didn’t say.”

“Oh dang, I didn’t say, did I? Well—uh—I can meet wherever you want,” Dean offered.

He heard Cas hum on the other end, and god did that deep voice of his do things to Dean.

“I believe your office would be sufficient seeing as I have a cubicle and I would assume we would want some semblance of privacy.”

Great. He was hoping for his and Cas’ sake they’d find some place to be out in the open. Meeting in his office meant he’d be stuck smelling Cas’ scent up close.

“Uh—if that’s what you think is best then sure,” he said hesitantly.

“I’ll be up in just a minute then,” Cas said, hanging up the phone before Dean could even respond.

Dean slammed the phone down and sat back in his chair defeated and figured he might as well type one last message to Charlie before he sat in hell for a minute.

 **D. Winchester:** Cas is coming to my office to meet… kill me now

He was counting down the seconds until there was a knock on his door right as he heard the ping of a new message.

 **C. Bradbury:** Wow. Good luck with that. I want deets during lunch.

Dean minimized the screen and cleared his throat before yelling, “come in.”

When the door opened, the aroma of cinnamon and honey hit him before Cas walked in, hair disheveled as usual. The top buttons of his shirt were open and Dean despised how his eyes honed in on Cas’ collarbones. It was always his favorite place to kiss Cas. And now he felt like they were on display for him in his own office.

“Morning, sunshine,” Dean greeted, turning to his computer to try to force himself not to stare at Cas.

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel shut the door, seated himself opposite Dean’s desk, and looked around. Dean knew he had a great office, and Cas seemed intrigued by the space. “You have a very nice office.”

“Yeah? Well, thanks. Figured I might as well make it look nice since I spend more time here than home anyways,” Dean said.

Castiel’s eyes landed on a photo; it was from the most recent family gathering he’d had with Sam, Jo, Bobby, and Ellen.

“Is that your family?” Cas asked. “The tallest one is… Sam, right?”

Dean smiled. “Yeah. That’s Sammy alright. That nerd managed to get taller and nerdier if that’s even possible. How’d you know?”

Dean could see a tiny blush creep into Cas’ cheek. Was he embarrassed that he knew?

“I—you mentioned his name a few times. That’s all.”

Dean nodded. “Gotcha. Yeah, he’s the uhh—only blood I got left. Bobby and Ellen are our adoptive parents. Took us in and raised us after our parents died when we were younger. Jo is Ellen’s daughter and my step-sister. We’re just sorta one big hodgepodge.”

Dean watched Castiel smile, the moment more intimate than any they’d shared before, even after all the nights they spent together.

“What about you?” he asked, refocusing Cas’ attention back to him.

“Excuse me?” Cas inquired.

“Family, Cas. Got any brothers and sisters?”

“Oh—umm—yes. I have three older brothers. Michael and Lucas are the oldest, Gabriel is the middle child, and I’m the youngest.”

“Damn, that’s a lot Cas. How did you manage with that many people running around?”

“It was easier than you’d think. Michael and Lucas are both alphas, and Gabriel is a beta. I’m the only omega in my family so when we were younger my parents always paid me more attention. They worried I wouldn’t turn out as successful as my siblings.”

“What? Just because you were an omega?” Dean asked incredulously.

“My parents were very old-fashioned, Dean,” Castiel said as though it should’ve answered his question. When it was obvious to Castiel that Dean wasn’t getting it, he rolled his eyes and continued. “They were very wealthy and ran a very successful law firm. When I told them I had no interest in pursuing a law degree they were scared I would not find a successful job because of my status as an omega, so they doted on me. It was—uncomfortable, to say the least.”

“Well, I mean look at you now. You’re one of the best accountants Sandover’s got, so I guess it paid off,” Dean said.

Castiel smiled. “Thank you, Dean.”

A weirdly comfortable silence started up between them. Dean was confused. He expected Cas to be all business when he came in, but now they had shared stories about their families. It wasn’t what he was expecting, but he felt… relieved. Maybe he could broach the topic with Cas after all.

“Hey, Cas. Look can we—uhh—talk about this project?” Dean mustered up the courage to ask.

“Of course. That’s why you scheduled this meeting, is it not?”

Dean took a deep breath and sighed. “Cas, what I mean is moreso… about _us_ working together on this project.”

Castiel tilted his head, blue eyes clouded with confusion until all of a sudden, like a bolt of lightning, realization hit him.

“Oh. You mean what has transpired between us prior to this project.”

“Yeah. I just wanna make sure we’re okay—you know—working on this together.”

There was a glint of anger in Castiel’s eyes now, and Dean was getting a strong feeling that Cas was definitely not as receptive to this talk as he might’ve believed.

“Dean, I can assure you that I can work on this project without letting our past entanglements get in the way. I can only hope that you can do the same,” Cas bit back, a sharp edge to his words.

“Look, Cas, I’m not trying to say you can’t do the job. I’m just—”

“You were insinuating that as an omega who has slept with you, people would perceive that I slept my way to this position and project correct?” Cas interrupted.

“Cas, that’s not what I meant. Geez,” Dean said in his defense.

Cas sighed and let the anger that had rose to the surface slowly fade away. “Dean. You and I, there is nothing going on. It’s just sex. I have sex and so do you. I see no harm if we end our arrangement to focus on the project.”

When the words left Cas’ mouth, Dean could see even he was surprised at what he’d said. Dean hated that he felt like a piece of himself had cracked hearing that, but he knew it was for the best. Cas was not interested in anything long-term with him, and at this rate he never would be.

“Uhh—yeah. Yeah, you’re right. Let’s just—uhh—start over, I guess.”

“Yes. That would be for the best.”

Dean swallowed and put on his best fake smile while Cas just studied him. Dean hated it. He wished Cas would pretend to be looking elsewhere. It would’ve at least let him feel a little less vulnerable.

“So, I guess we should talk about this project,” Dean said finally.

Castiel nodded and offered a tiny smile to lighten the mood, but it was too late for that.

“We could start with your sketches and compare it to the initial budget I’ve prepared.”

“Yeah that sounds good,” Dean said quickly.

Cas’ scent reeked of concern, but Dean ignored it. Cas wouldn’t be concerned for him in the way he wanted, so he couldn’t pay it any mind now. All he could do was grin and bear this meeting, and he’d come up with a plan afterwards. One that wouldn’t and couldn’t involve Cas.


	4. Chapter 4

Trying to forget about Dean Winchester was proving to be a much more difficult task than Castiel had expected.

After that first meeting, he couldn’t shake the image of hurt and rejection in Dean’s eyes when he’d shut down any prospect of a relationship between them. It was for the best though. Castiel didn’t need anyone thinking he’d fucked Dean to get where he was in the company. As an omega in a highly coveted position, he had enough of those rumors flying around as it was. 

He also couldn’t deny that the scent of a rejected alpha— _ of Dean feeling rejected _ —was repulsive and vile. It had stuck with him for days and made him nauseous every single time. His nausea worsened when he remembered that he was the one who made Dean smell that way. 

For his own personal sanity, he should’ve dropped the project the second Dean walked into that conference room. But for the sake of his career, he would press forward, Dean or not. 

Dean sent him some of the preliminary sketches and suggestions and Castiel put together some initial projections and budget spreadsheets, but they were still far from being ready to send everything to Amara and Chuck. He was thankful Dean had schmoozed the two restaurateurs into getting an extension from their investors because he was too distracted to give the reports the true attention they needed. 

It was why he needed to take his mind off Dean. He’d go mad and screw this project up otherwise. 

Meg and Balthazar agreed and coerced him into joining them at the bar after work. 

_ “C’mon, Clarence. You need to let loose a little. Take your mind off your alpha fuckbuddy upstairs. Besides, I wanna get drunk,” Meg whined.  _

_ “She’s right, Cassie. I’m tired of you reeking like someone pissed in your cornflakes. You need to get laid by someone who’s not Dean Winchester,” Balthazar had added.  _

Though he initially tried to ignore their protests and attacks on his personal hygiene, he did agree that he needed to get laid. Sex usually helped clear his mind. 

He took their suggestion and decided the best remedy for his situation would be to get sloshed and laid. And currently, he had succeeded on both fronts.  _ Sort of _ . 

He was as sloshed as he could be for a Thursday, and he was getting fucked, but that was the problem right there. The alpha he’d picked up from the bar, Inias, or least that’s what he thought his name was after Meg had introduced them, was fucking him, but it didn’t feel right. 

Castiel didn’t believe Inias was an alpha at first, the poor man was soft-spoken and didn’t exude that alpha aura. Eventually, he could smell the scent of alpha on him but It smelled off. He wanted to regurgitate his beer when it first hit his nose. But he chalked it up to the malodorous scent of rejected alpha that had had been wafting around in his nose all day. Even with his awkwardly long hair, Inias was a gorgeous man which helped spur Castiel’s decision to invite him back to his apartment. 

The problem was, instead of scratching the itch the way only Dean seemed capable of, Inias was currently making it worse. 

Inias fucking into him felt like pure monotony, Castiel almost counting the thrusts in boredom. He sat staring at his ceiling, counting the tiles, ignoring the grunts and praise Inias was showering him with—praise that felt wrong falling from his lips. 

He barely leaked any slick, his body equally rejecting the alpha cock inside him. His own cock sat half-hard against his stomach, and several times he’ considered jerking himself off to get at least some pleasure from this. 

At this point he was just hoping Inias would knot him so he could start the countdown until he left. Even a night of no sex would’ve been better. This just felt like a chore.  

If anyone was to blame, it was Dean. 

Every time he closed his eyes he saw Dean, but when he opened them he despised the immediate dissatisfaction that it wasn’t him. Inias wasn’t filling him like Dean could. He didn’t smell like Dean did when Dean was fucking him into the mattress, whispering filthy promises of what he’d do to him. With Dean, Cas leaked slick like a waterfall, his thighs coated as though his own greedy hole was salivating for that alpha cock. 

Most others could at least elicit a decent amount of slick, or at least enough that he didn’t need lube, but lately he’d been dry. Unless it was Dean. 

“I think… I’m gonna… I’m gonna—”

Castiel tuned out Inias’ warning, waiting for him to come, knot, and be done. 

But like everything else tonight, even Inias knotting him had gone terribly wrong. He felt Inias’ cock growing inside him, but there wasn’t that stretch, that welcomed burn he felt with Dean. As Inias growled, he was waiting for the knot to catch, but even when he felt those first hot spurts inside him, Inias’ knot never caught on his rim. 

It caught Inias off-guard, if the mortified expression in those big eyes of his was any indication. The bliss from his orgasm had vanished. The poor man’s pride was probably shattered to pieces, and Castiel pitied him. He, on the other hand, was extremely irritated and confused. When it came to sex, he always locked a knot unless he was sloppy drunk, but he wasn’t even that drunk anymore. 

In the awkward silence that passed between them, Inias, no doubt trying to salvage the moment, let his hand reach for Castiel’s already softening cock, but Castiel was done. 

“It’s fine,” Castiel interrupted, swatting him away. He was beyond wanting an orgasm at this point. This whole thing felt like a blessing in disguise for him. Inias not locking meant he could be free of him faster. He wanted Inias to clean himself up and go. 

“I can go another round in about twenty minutes if you want to try again?”

Castiel felt sorry for him. Inias seemed like a nice man but Castiel was beyond done with him, and didn’t want to entertain any illusion that he wasn’t. He hoped his next one night stand would turn out better than this.

“I believe it’s best if we call it a night,” Castiel sighed.  

Inias didn’t argue with him, and slipped out of Castiel before collecting his clothes and dressing. Castiel ruminated on the fact that he hadn’t even been able to enjoy himself because of Dean Winchester.

Reaching over to check the time on his phone he realized it wasn’t even eleven yet. Most nights of sex he could enjoy himself until one or two in the morning, but for some reason he wasn’t even able to last thirty minutes.

He took pity on Inias’ meandering figure, and he felt an obligation to not ruin the man’s self-esteem for the rest of his life.

“Inias,” he called out, capturing the man’s attention. “This is not your fault. I… am currently struggling to get over an ex. My body is clearly not ready to move on.”

There was a small upturn at the corner of Inias’ lips, though very little change in his scent, a foul odor of despondency.

“Thank you. Maybe we can try again another time?” Inias asked, his voice hopeful.  

Castiel grinned. “Absolutely. You are a very beautiful man. Anyone would be lucky to have a second chance.”

Inias nodded at that and finished dressing before seeing himself out of Castiel’s bedroom, turning back only to wish Castiel a goodnight before the apartment door closed behind him. Castiel remained in bed for a little while longer.

He was irritated.

Sex was one of the few enjoyable things he had to look forward to, but that spark had extinguished suddenly. He felt nothing with Inias. There was no excitement. There was no pleasure. When he thought about Inias fucking him, he only felt disappointment it wasn’t Dean.

This had to stop.

At some point he would have to get up and clean himself off, but instead he grabbed his phone and opened his email. It only took a few minutes for him to type an email to his boss to alert her of his tardiness tomorrow due to a sudden doctor’s appointment. He wasn’t due at the doctors for another two months for his birth control shots and suppressants, but he couldn’t go on like this much longer.

Dean Winchester was proving to be a bigger thorn in his side than he’d anticipated. And if he couldn’t use sex as a distraction from Dean, then he’d heavily medicate himself until it was no longer an issue.

______________________________________________

 

“Good morning, Castiel,” Hannah, or Dr. Johnson, greeted as she walked into the examination room, his patient chart in hand. “I was surprised when Tessa said you were here to see me. You weren’t scheduled to be back for another two months.”

Tessa, Hannah’s nurse, had been in to see him before Hannah and while checking his vitals and inquiring what brought him in, she seemed amused by the symptoms he described. It irritated him more than it probably should have, and he was very tense.

“Yes, I—umm—have had some things come up recently that I felt were serious enough to move up my appointment,” Castiel said hesitantly.

Castiel had shown up at Hannah’s office first thing in the morning practically begging for an appointment, and he nearly weeped with joy when the receptionist notified him of a cancellation. He and Hannah were old friends, his parents and hers having known each other for years. It was a miracle Hannah had decided to open a practice in the same city. It also helped that she was open-minded and held no judgment against him being an omega who refused being mated and liked sex. That’s why she had been his doctor for years.

“What Tessa described does seem unusual for you.” Hannah pulled her examination chair up while brushing her dark, shoulder-length hair behind her ears. “You said you’ve been having scenting issues and failure to lock during intercourse?”

Castiel could feel heat pooling in his cheeks. Hannah may be a friend and his doctor, but there were still some things he despised discussing with her.

“Yes… that’s correct,” he muttered.

Hannah smiled slightly, putting him at ease.

“Don’t be ashamed, Castiel. We might be friends, but I’m your doctor first and foremost, and everything you say remains confidential, as I’m sure you already know.”

Castiel returned her smile with a coy one of his own. “Of course, Dr. Johnson.”

Hannah shook her head. “Castiel, it’s Hannah. Dr. Johnson is for my patients that I didn’t grow up with.” She opened the chart and examined it, skimming the notes that Tessa took during his triage. “So, tell me a little bit about the scenting issue you’re having.”

“Yes… well, it started about two weeks ago. I’ve had this very off-putting odor that won’t go away. It nauseates whenever I smell it or think about it,” he started.

Hannah looked between him and his medical chart, taking notes with her pen all the while.

“And this scent, can you describe it?” she asked.

Castiel shook his head. “I can’t. It doesn’t smell like anything I’ve smelled before. It’s just—off.”

“Very interesting.” Her pen was moving a mile a minute now, and Castiel’s curiosity was piqued. “And tell me, did anything spur this sudden scenting, or did it just start randomly?”

Here we go. This was the part where he had to face the music.

He sighed and looked away before turning back to Hannah. “I believe it was an alpha that caused this. He is a co-worker who did not respond very well to something I said.”

Hannah looked up at him, her demure and stoic face now showing signs of shock at his revelation.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how close are you to this co-worker?”

“We have been sleeping together on and off for over a year now. We don’t interact much outside of that.”

“So, you’re friend with benefits then. Is that a fair assessment?” she asked.

Castiel nodded. Hannah continued writing, her expression unreadable as her pen moved furiously, raising an alarm inside him as she continued to write. Finally, after a few silent moments that felt like an eternity, she put her pen down and closed his file.

“Alright, Castiel. Before we discuss this alpha, I want to hear about your incident with not locking during intercourse,” she said. He sensed a shift in her approach now. She was no longer Dr. Hannah Johnson MD. She was now Hannah Johnson, his friend. “Describe how you felt during intercourse, mentally and physically.”

He sat back on the examination table and folded his hands in his lap. Castiel wasn’t sure what made him feel so vulnerable describing sex to her. He’d been open about his sexual partners, describing them in vivid detail to Balthazar and Meg when they pressed him. Now, he almost felt as naked as he was when he was having sex.

“It was boring. I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve had plenty of bad sex, but this time it just felt wrong. The man—he was very good looking, but I just couldn’t bring myself to get excited. When he was about to knot me, I felt like I wanted it to be over. I kept thinking of… the other alpha from work. That’s when I realized his knot did not lock. I’ve never had that happen before.”

Hannah sighed, but her expression was easy-going as though she knew exactly what his problem was, which was highly likely since she was a specialized omega doctor.

“Tell me a little bit about this alpha.”

For all the personal questions that Hannah asked as his doctor, hearing her ask about Dean seemed to catch him off kilter the most.

“He is—well—he is very kind and attractive. We met at a company Christmas party last year and we have been sleeping together on and off ever since.”

“Has he knotted you during intercourse?”

Castiel sighed. “Yes, but he is on alpha suppressants, and we never have sex when he’s in rut.”

“Has he expressed interest in a relationship with you?”

“Yes. But I’m not interested. Up until I while ago I wasn’t sure he was either.”

With everything that happened since the last time he’d been face to face with Dean, he was beginning to wonder if he believed that. His mind was starting to play that stupid doubt game where even his own thoughts couldn’t be trusted. 

“Last question, Castiel. This alpha you work with—is he the same one who caused the foul scent?” she asked.

“Yes. It was him.” Hannah just smiled and stood up before opening his file and writing one last thing down. Castiel just watched, his frustration building. “So, what do you think my problem is?”

“Castiel, believe it or not, your body is creating a mating bond with this alpha.”

His nausea returned with a vengeance at the word mating.

“Did you say  _ mating _ ?” he deadpanned.

Hannah nodded. “The nauseating odor you’re smelling is a symptom of your body reacting strongly to the hormones of your potential mate. A foul odor, like what you’re experiencing, indicates that your mate is unhappy or stressed, and in the early stages of a mating bond it’s not uncommon for stronger mating scents to linger for days or even weeks.”

“What about the locking issue?” he asked, panicked now at her revelation.

“Also, a symptom. Early mating bonds inhibit your pleasure during intercourse with anyone other than that potential mate. Failing to lock or even achieve an erection are very common issues as well.”

Castiel wanted to vomit, but he had no food in him to regurgitate. A mating bond was the very thing he didn’t want, especially now. His body went numb at the thought of being mated, and not just mated to anyone, but to Dean Winchester of all people.

“Castiel, are you alright?” Hannah asked, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Her touch felt like needles on his skin. He needed comfort and he hated that his body wanted that to be Dean’s hand on him.   

“This… this can’t be possible,” he denied. “I’m on my suppressants. I’ve gotten my birth control shots and done everything to avoid having a mate. How is this possible?”

“Contrary to popular belief, mating bonds are not purely a physical bodily reaction. Science has proven that an omega can begin a mating bond if there is an emotional connection to the other person. I’m not saying you’re in love with him; however, I believe there is some emotional attraction that is causing you to experience these onset mating bond symptoms.”

“Hannah, I can’t afford to have a mating bond with him. He’s in management and we’re working on a project together. I can’t—I can’t let this bond form. I need to break it, and fast,” he urged, not even bothering to hide the desperation anymore.

Hannah seemed bewildered by his pleading, but by now she had to know how bad of a situation he was in. After a few moments her face returned to its gentle but stoic expression.

“As your doctor, I can prescribe you stronger suppressants that should be able to hasten the process of breaking a mating bond,” she started. Her gentle expression quickly broke into concern again, and Castiel was not prepared for what she would say next. “But as your friend, Castiel, I recommend you give this mating bond a chance. It won’t be good for you to reject the bond. Even in the workplace, there are ways to successfully navigate a mating bond.”

“While I appreciate your suggestion, I just want to be rid of it,” Castiel said sternly.

Hannah took a moment to study him, but she relented and stood up and reached into the cabinet, pulling out a box full of injectable vials. He wasn’t sure what she was going to do, but he only prayed it would end this nightmare.

“As your doctor, I will do what you ask, but I have to warn you, even higher level suppressants lose their effectiveness the stronger a mating bond is. If you’re serious about breaking this bond, you need to keep your distance from this alpha for at least a few weeks while taking these.”

He sat by idly thinking about her words while she filled the needle with whatever was in the vial and then prepped his arm for the shot.

“This is a stronger dampener that gets injected straight into the bloodstream. This should eliminate the nauseating scent you’ve been smelling, however, as a side effect your scent will be very off-putting for up to a week,” she explained as she injected the liquid into his arms.

The shot was quick and painless and she applied a bandage over it as soon as the needle had been removed. When all that was done, she wrote a few more things in his chart before jotting something down on her prescription pad.

When she handed it to him, he read two medications, both suppressants he’d heard of on television before.

“I’m prescribing you a very strong suppressant and dampener that should help break the bond. However, I can’t stress enough that these are not guaranteed to solve your problem. The symptoms can persist or worsen depending on how strong the mating bond is, and there is potential for you to go into heat.”

Castiel shrugged his suit jacket back on before standing up.

“Thank you, Hannah, for everything,” he said gratefully.

“It’s no problem. Though I still wish you would at least consider the mating bond, I am aware that not everyone is interested in that. Just take care of yourself.”

Castiel nodded and smiled, a silent promise to her that he would try. He was out the door after that, paying his copay and setting up his next appointment before making his way back to his car. As he stared down at the prescriptions in hand, he ignored that quiet, but shrill voice in his head that kept questioning if he was doing the right thing.

______________________________________________

 

“So, the doc pumped you up full of chemicals to cure you of the disease called Dean Winchester,” Meg teased, tone mocking as she stuck a few fries in her mouth.

Castiel glared, mostly from her taking food off his plate, but he sighed and shook his head. “I don’t have  _ Dean Winchester disease _ ,” he grumbled.

“Right, and I don’t have all the alpha boys coming to the yard for my milkshake,” Meg said with an eye roll. “Face it, Clarence, you’ve got it bad for him. You want that alpha D so badly, and yet you won’t let yourself have it.”  

When he’d finished at Hannah’s office and picked up his prescriptions from the pharmacy, he’d slinked into the office, slowly resuming his work. The first thing he noticed was that the foul stench that had plagued him, that stench of Dean’s dejection, was gone. In its place was nothing. He considered it a small victory that the dampeners had worked, but it was short-lived when he saw a string of emails from Dean asking if they could talk.

He hadn’t responded, and he wasn’t quite sure why.

“I do not want Dean. And you should know better than anyone that inter-organization relationships are frowned upon,” Castiel reminded her indignantly.

Balthazar huffed as he fiddled with his food. “Oh c’mon, Cassie. That rule hasn’t been followed since the seventies. Even the she-devil from HR knows that. Hell, half of the architects get blazed and screw each other when they’re not injecting themselves with caffeine and crying.”

Meg glared, and Castiel couldn’t stifle his laugh.

“Seriously, you should lock that down before someone else does. I don’t want to be stuck with you moping all day,” Balthazar continued.

“I have not been moping,” Castiel argued indignantly.

Meg snickered while stealing more fries off his plate. “I seem to distinctly recall a few months ago,  _ someone _ , was in quite a bad mood because they could smell another omega on their favorite alpha booty call during their hook-up.”

Castiel blushed and averted his eyes from both Balthazar and Meg’s knowing glances.

“I was not upset about Dean sleeping with someone else. I was simply… stressed that week.”

Meg and Balthazar didn’t bother to argue, and Castiel knew deep down they didn’t need to. He remembered when he’d slipped into Dean’s apartment, and that scent first hit his nose. Anger was the strongest emotion he remembered feeling that night. The scent was flowery, earthy,  _ repulsive. _ It smelled like a cheap perfume. He wanted to bathe Dean. Wash that offending scent off every inch of his skin. Instead he settled for pushing Dean down on the mattress, his cock slamming into him ferociously, claiming him as though he was the alpha. Only when Dean was screaming his name, submitting for him in a way that would’ve horrified any other alpha, did Castiel feel better.

That relief had been short-lived though as that scent lingered the next day, and the next day, and the next, until Castiel had snapped and gone on a bender, sleeping with a different alpha every day that weekend to try and take his mind off of it.

“Speak of the devil, look who it is,” Balthazar pointed out.

Castiel turned around to see Dean, seated in the cafeteria with two people who he recognized as Dean’s friends. He would’ve focused on how casual Dean looked, his shirt unbuttoned a little and that effervescent smile lighting up his face, but his mind was preoccupied with the fact that he couldn’t smell Dean. 

Where Dean’s scent would’ve been all he could smell, the smells of his lunch and other foods in the cafeteria were all that filled his nostrils. Now, without Balthazar’s warning, he’d have never known Dean was here when before he’d have been the first to know.

The injection was working though. He should’ve considered it a major success, but something about this victory felt hollow. 

“You’re staring,” Meg pointed out. 

Nervously, Castiel looked down to his plate of fries, but something in his stomach rejected the idea of eating. 

“When was the last time you spoke to him?” Balthazar asked. 

“It’s been a week. He’s sent me several emails and left several voicemail messages asking about the project.” Castiel looked back up at Dean. Dean hadn’t looked in his direction, and Castiel was wondering if maybe his own scent was undetectable to Dean. Whatever the case was, now would probably be the best time to approached him. “I should go talk to him. Whatever he needs, it seems urgent.” 

“Well this is a shocker even for you, Clarence. Are you actually going to pull your head out of your ass and publicly claim your mate?” 

Castiel stood and glared at her, but she just smiled and downed more of his fries. 

“I’m simply going to talk to Dean about the project. As of right now, there is nothing else going on between us.” 

“Whatever you say, Clarence.” 

Castiel refused to argue with either of them about Dean anymore. It was a lost cause. As he made his way over to Dean, the muscles in his legs tightened. His heartbeat was nearly audible in his own ears as he watched Dean look up at him. Emerald green eyes followed his every move and Castiel could see Dean sniff before his face twisted in confusion. 

When Castiel came to a stop in front of Dean, he zoned out everything around him except Dean and the absence of Dean’s scent even this up-close. 

“Hello, Dean,” he greeted. He turned to Dean’s friends and nodded with a half-smile. “Dean’s friends.” 

“Uh, hey Cas,” Dean said hesitantly. He motioned to the redhead that bubbled with poorly-contained enthusiasm. “This is Charlie. Works in IT. And this guy over here is Benny.” 

Castiel offered a small wave, feeling small around Dean’s friends. 

Before Cas could speak, Dean beat him to the punch, frustration replacing the bewilderment on his face. 

“Cas, where the hell were you? We had a meeting today and Amara needed a progress report ASAP this morning and I couldn’t find you. No one in accounting knew where you were,” Dean started in. 

Castiel felt his whole body seize up. It hadn’t even occurred to him to check his calendar before he decided to skip work to go see Hannah. Dean was right though. Castiel remembered accepting that meeting invite. 

“I’m sorry. I had… an appointment.” 

His apology didn’t seem to do much to assuage Dean’s frustration. “Cas, can we have a word? Somewhere private?” 

Dean stood up, ignoring the concerning looks from his friends, and Cas hated how he wordlessly followed Dean. He felt weak. He couldn’t smell Dean. Dean was no different than a beta to him right now. But yet he felt compelled to follow him. And so he did. He followed Dean all the way out the cafeteria and into the vacant stairwell nearby. 

As soon as the door closed, Dean turned to Cas and that look of concern returned. Cas found himself hyperaware of his own heartbeat again. 

“Is there a reason you’ve taken us to a stairwell?” Cas asked. 

“Because I don’t think you wanna have this conversation in front of half the company.” Dean sniffed again and Castiel let his eyes narrow. “Cas, what’s going on? We’ve barely spoken since that meeting, and I feel like I’m doing this whole thing by myself.” 

“I’ve been busy. And I have been doing my fair share, Dean. I’ve sent you budget projections for all the sketches you’ve sent me,” Castiel retorted indignantly. 

“Seriously, where were you today? I really could’ve used you in that meeting this morning.” 

“I told you, I had an appointment. And I forgot about our meeting today.” 

Dean rolled his eyes. “You couldn’t have told me about your appointment? Seriously, Cas, since we talked in my office you’ve been avoiding me, and look, neither of us can change what’s happened, but c’mon, man, we gotta come to an agreement or something.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

That was a lie. He knew exactly what Dean was talking about. 

“Cas, look, I don’t want this project to screw up anything between us.” Dean’s words made him acutely aware of the chill crawling up his body. When he opened his mouth, words didn’t want to come out which worked out well because Dean took the opportunity to fill the silence. “You and I, we had a good arrangement, and I think we can handle this project and not make things awkward between us.”

His brain wasn’t functioning at all because he was still in utter disbelief that Dean was telling him he still wanted to sleep with him. So, his brain did the best thing it could do in this situation. He said the exact wrong thing. 

“The appointment I went to was a doctor’s appointment, Dean.” 

“Geez, is that why you smell so off?” Dean asked, sniffing the air again. 

Castiel felt a twinge of anger. Maybe it was because he knew just how attuned Dean was to his scent. He had to stop this; it was getting to be too much. He didn’t like the small warmth that burned in the pit of his stomach. It felt too much like hope for something he shouldn’t think about. Something he shouldn’t even want. 

“The doctor… she said it would be best if you and I didn’t spend any time together unless necessary for work.” 

Castiel didn’t need to be attuned to Dean’s scent to sense the anger bubbling underneath Dean’s skin. 

“The hell does your doc know about us?” Dean growled. 

Too late to turn back now. Dean deserved to know the truth so he could know why they couldn’t be around one another. Why he needed to keep himself away from Dean. 

“Dean… she said you and I were forming a mating bond.” 

It was a simple admission but one that drained the rage from Dean’s face and left a blank stare in its place. 

“Wait… Cas. You mean you and I… we have a mating a bond?” Dean asked, voice tight like he had to force the words out. 

“Yes. And now you can see why there can’t be anything between us. I have no interest in a mate, and I would think you have no interest in mating me either.” 

“But—what if I did.” 

Something punched the air from Castiel’s lungs, strangling him so he couldn’t breath. And despite his earlier doctor’s appointment, the nausea had returned to his stomach with a vengeance. 

“Dean, you don’t mean that,” Castiel replied. 

“Damn it, Cas!” Dean exclaimed, his voice getting louder. “You and I, we’ve been at this for over a year now. You can’t tell me you didn’t feel anything the entire time. 

He wouldn’t do this. He wasn’t going to entertain something he didn’t want. That he believed he didn’t want. 

“It doesn’t matter. I’ve taken the steps to undo the bond.” The pain in Dean’s face was a knife to his heart. His words were cold and cutting, but he knew he had to let Dean down somehow. Dean had to know that Castiel could never allow himself to be his omega;  _ to be his mate _ . “Dean, I can’t do this. The things people would say if they found out could ruin my career.” 

Dean was breathing harder. Not yet hyperventilating, but breathing just hard enough that Castiel could tell he was subduing whatever emotion threatened to boil over. 

“Who gives a shit, Cas?” he barked. “You really gonna put other people’s goddamn opinions over giving this—thing— _ us _ —a chance?” 

He was becoming gradually aware of Dean’s scent again. The scent of winter pine and cold, rushing water started to fill his nostrils, suffocating him in an intoxicating aroma in this dank, dim stairwell. 

Panic started to overtake him. It wasn’t his biology though this time. It was that voice in his head he quelled for so long, that kept screaming to let an alpha… his alpha claim him. 

“I’m—I’m sorry, Dean. I have to go.” 

He ignored his own weakness, that part of his brain that wanted submission to his alpha and escaped from the stairwell. He thought of work, of numbers and dollars he was in charge of balancing and recording on spreadsheets. He didn’t think of green eyes with tears of betrayal and rage in them. Of that beautiful, freckled face belonging to an alpha that maybe… just maybe, he was beginning to wonder if he could see himself with. 

He was going to need a hell of a lot of suppressant pills.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean cracked open his laptop as he plopped down on his bed, sinking into the comfort of the large queen sized bed. He signed onto Skype and saw Sam was already online. It only took a minute before the call came through and he accepted, coming face first with his brother, long, shaggy hair and all.

“Sammy! Long time, no chat,” Dean greeted, cracking what he could feel was probably the biggest smile in days, maybe a couple of weeks.

“Hey, Dean,” Sam said as he smiled back. “You’re looking good for a guy who’s still drowning himself in work.”

“Ahh, well what can I say. I work hard and I play harder.” Dean smiled and watched as Sam chuckled a little. It was these moments that made him feel at home again. “So, what’s going on with you? How’s Eileen and the baby?”

Dean watched as Sam turned to someone offscreen and started signing. He always felt a warmth seeing just how gone Sam was on Eileen. After a moment, long, brown locks fell in front of the screen and Eileen waved at him.

“Hi, Dean,” she said, smiling. In her arms, she cradled Jesse, their newborn son and his nephew.

He was rusty, but he signed a greeting back to her.

Sam had taught him some basics of signing, enough that he could at least carry a basic conversation with Eileen, but it was hard to remember, though Eileen didn’t fault him for it.

“Eileen! You keepin’ Sammy and Jesse in line?”

Eileen laughed. “I think Sam is the one keeping me straight.” And Dean had no doubt about that. Having a baby only five months ago and dealing with Sam, who Dean considered an oversized child anyways, had to be an adjustment for her, but Dean saw how Sam stepped up to the plate to give her time to relax. Hell, Sam spent half of the time on their weekly Skype calls playing with Jesse, feeding him, or changing his diaper.

In some ways, Sam had the life Dean craved. An alpha with a good job, a good mate in his beta wife, and a freakin’ awesome son that Dean couldn’t wait to visit and spoil in person again. He couldn’t wait until Sam and Eileen let him babysit the kid.

Jesse stirred and Dean could hear the beginnings of a cry fall from his nephew’s mouth, prompting Eileen to wave a quick goodbye before carrying the newborn somewhere off screen.

“Kid’s got your neediness, you know,” Dean teased.

“Shut up, jerk,” Sam quipped.

“You shut up, bitch.”

Dean was all smiles. He felt relaxed, the most he’d been in days.

“Seriously, Dean, how are you?”

Dean knew that voice. That was Sam’s _I know something’s going on_ voice. Sam had an ulterior motive to this call. Sam always worried about him, more than he should.

“Everything’s peachy. Got a new project that’s kickin’ my ass, but I’ll manage. I got Garth helpin’ out so I don’t have to drink my stress away.”

He only felt slightly guilty lying to Sam. Work had been murder the last two weeks. Amara had been riding him like a mule on this project. Chuck was conveniently always out doing something when she called. The initial designs had gotten approval from the Shurley’s investors and while that brought Dean some short-lived relief, it wasn’t even a couple of days before he got the requests for additions and changes.

And on top of everything, there was Cas.

“Never can catch a break can you, Dean?” Sam laughed.

“Hey, if I wanna make senior management, them’s the breaks. Anyways what about you? Any new murder cases yet?”

Sam sighed and rolled his eyes. “I don’t do criminal law, Dean.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. I was just hoping you might’ve figured out corporate law was a pain in the ass and you switched to something more exciting.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Sam countered.

Quiet settled amongst them and Sam looked around at everywhere but him. He figured he might as well put him out of his misery.

“Out with it, Sammy. What do you want to ask me?”

That got Sam’s attention, but he looked confused before Dean gave his younger brother that knowing glare.

Sam sighed. “Alright, fine. I talked to Charlie and she told me about Cas.” Dean scoffed and nearly pushed his laptop off his lap. “Look, Dean. Charlie seems pretty worried about you. She thinks you’re kinda losing it over this guy.”

“Remind me to tell Charlotte to keep her mouth shut.”

“She’s my friend too, you know,” Sam argued.

“Yeah, well she still shouldn’t have told you cause now you’re gonna worry about me even more.”

Sam smirked and shrugged. “It’s my job as your brother to worry about you.”

Dean couldn’t help but smile a little at that. At the end of the day, it was him and Sam. He had Bobby, Ellen and Jo of course, but when their parents had died, it was him and Sam. “Look, Sam. Appreciate the concern but there ain’t nothing to worry about. I got this whole Cas thing under control.”

He had no control over the Cas situation, and it felt shitty lying to Sam. He and Cas had a freaking mating bond. That fact hadn’t left his mind at all the last two weeks.

When Cas had told him he was breaking the bond, something in him snapped. He’d barely managed to tell Adler he was leaving before he stormed out. It had taken every ounce of energy in him not to put his fist through the Impala’s windows. When he got home, he drowned his conflicted feelings in booze and fits of anger. And since then he’d lived in a state of complete confusion.

To draw himself out of his depression, he kept telling himself that he and Cas had a mating bond. He finally had proof that maybe Cas felt something for him too—that maybe their nights of meaningless sex were really silent promises of a future between them. But as he tried to focus on that, his mood refused to improve.

“I just worry about you, Dean.”

Translation: he pitied Dean. Sam had what he wanted out of life so it was easy for him, and Bobby, and Ellen, and just about everyone else who knew him to say he worked too hard and needed to let go and settle down a bit. But that was just talk for wanting Dean to settle down and find a mate. He wanted that for himself too, but he wanted that with Cas. It didn’t seem like Cas wanted him back, and that fucking hurt.

Instead of wallowing, he smiled through the pain and winked at Sam.

“Don’t get all sentimental on me, Samantha,” he teased. “Look, I’m good. Real good, in fact. Cas and I, we do the do every now and then. I got plenty of other people too, if you wanna know.”

Sam grimaced. “Gross, Dean.”

“Hey, you asked for it.” Dean could hear Jesse crying in the background and Sam’s attention shifted to his fussing son. Dean had found a quick exit from this conversation. “Sounds like Eileen’s got her hands full.”

Sam sighed, but there was a gentle, fond smile tugging at the corners of Sam’s lips. “Jesse’s not exactly excited about bath time.”

“You go check on him, Sammy. Ain’t gonna forgive you for neglecting my nephew and fav sis-in-law. We’ll catch up sometime later.”

“Alright. But seriously, you take care of yourself, Dean. Also, did Bobby call you about coming up to the house?”

“Shit… he left me a voicemail, but I forgot to call him back,” Dean bemoaned. He’d chalk that up to this Cas funk.

“You should try to make it. Eileen and I are gonna try to bring Jesse, and I heard Jo is going too. I know we’d hate to go without you being there.”

Dean grumbled but he couldn’t disappoint Bobby and Ellen, and he didn’t want to imagine the angry phone calls and texts he’d get from Jo for skipping again.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll talk to him and try to clear my schedule.”

It was a half-hearted promise, but he knew how good it would be to go home. Family was probably one of the only things that could help clear his mind.

Jesse’s fussing seemed to worsen and even Dean’s eardrums were aching a little. The kid had some lungs on him. Maybe he’d teach him how to play the guitar and sing when he was older.

Sam sighed and let his head hang down in anticipation for whatever hell was about come in dealing with Jesse, and Dean just laughed, harder than he had in days.

“Better go take care of him before Eileen kills me for keeping you from—whatever is going on over there.”

“Thanks, Dean. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Yeah. Talk to you later.”

The skype chat ended and Dean shut his laptop before leaning back in his chair and groaning. His thoughts drifted to Bobby and Ellen. He needed to call them, but he also didn’t want the added pressure of having to commit to going up there. Then came the thoughts of Cas.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath.  

No matter what he was thinking about, his thoughts always turned to Cas. He thought about getting to introduce Cas to his family as his mate. He thought about one day having a child he could call his own and show off to everyone.

This mating bond had him screwed up.

He should’ve gone to the doctor and gotten medications to break it too. But some tiny part of his brain kept thinking Cas would change his mind. Every time, though, he found himself disappointed and spiraling into a funk instead. Charlie said his scent was even worse than before. The scent of soured milk now replacing the scent of wet dog to her nose.

Dean needed to beat this.

He was distracted. He felt drained all the time. It took three cups of coffee just to get him awake in the morning, and now his work was taking a hit.

Medicine would be the best way to kick this mating bond, especially if Cas wanted nothing to do with him. But he was a fan of self-medicating, and nothing was better than booze and sex.

He grabbed his phone and dialed one of the few people who could take his mind off things— off _Cas_ —even for just a little bit.

“Wasn’t expecting to hear from you, Dean,” Aaron’s deep voice answered.

“Yeah, I’ve been busy lately,” Dean said, tricking himself into smiling to drive away that unwarranted guilt for daring to talk to another omega. “What are you up to?”

He heard Aaron laugh on the other end. Even though their hook-ups were sporadic, Aaron knew what this phone call was.

“Well, I’ve got a dissertation to write, but I feel like my calendar for tonight just cleared up.”

“Good, because I need to get out, and I was hoping you’d join for me a coupla beers down at the usual place?” Dean offered, trying to quell the tinge of desperation lingering deep in his voice.

“Or,” Aaron started, voice lowered in lust, just enough that Dean could feel himself already getting a little hard underneath his work slacks. “We could just skip going out, get shit-faced on the whisky you’ve got at your place, and get right to the main event.”

Dean hummed in amusement. “Think I like your plan better.”

When Aaron laughed that breathy laugh of his, Dean envisioned that spark of lust in the omega’s rich brown eyes. He ignored his body’s revolt thinking of anything other than crystal blues belonging to Cas.

“Be there in twenty,” Aaron said before hanging up.

And Dean held him to that promise. The promise of getting a reprieve from the sting of a rejected mate, getting a night to experience pleasure instead of poorly concealed inner turmoil. He wasn’t at all surprised when Aaron showed up on his doorstep in under fifteen, pupils already blown wide in lust as he stepped inside Dean’s apartment with the cheap excuse, “Wasn’t any traffic on the road.”

They didn’t even bother with drinks, Dean pulling Aaron into him, crashing their mouths together, ignoring Aaron’s offending scent that smelled of shoe leather and book stores. No. He focused on the feel of Aaron’s warm body pressed against his, Aaron’s fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt, pheromones reeking of want, of lust, and of willing omega.

And in that moment, for the first time in two weeks, Castiel Novak didn’t exist.

But he would again in the morning. So Dean should enjoy what little reprieve he could.

______________________________________________

 

Dean felt like he was on fire when reality hit him in the morning. He felt every pore in his body dripping sweat and as the early morning sunlight flashed right in his face the first pangs of anger threatened to boil up to the surface.

He was naked, and beside him was Aaron’s still-sleeping form. His body was sore, but as he sat up he felt a fire in his belly, a fire that burned hotter every second. Even worse was that fact that he was very much erect, precome leaking down his shaft.

His mind was like a toy train on its track. Every thought was sex. Every person in that thought was Cas. He wanted Cas— _needed_ Cas.

“Shit… fuck,” he grumbled.

 _He was in rut_.

If he had to a pick a worst case scenario, going into rut was number one. He should’ve listened to Charlie and Benny and gone to the fucking doctor.

Aaron stirred, and that fire in the pit of his stomach was punishing him for the thought of fucking Aaron to take the edge off his rut. It made him want to wretch.

When he looked at his phone, an already shitty day was about to get shittier. He’d set the reminder on his phone because today was the next conference call with Amara and Chuck and this time Adler would be there.

That meant no skipping work to sort out the glaring boner problem he was having.

Aaron’s eyes fluttered open and Dean was now hyper aware of concerned brown eyes leering at him.

“Someone’s a little tense this morning,” Aaron murmured, a coy, lazy smile playing at his lips. Dean’s mind and body were having none of it. As his body woke up and started functioning, Aaron’s scent had gone from irritating to repulsive.

This mating bond had him more fucked up than he’d believed.

“Got a long day ahead of me,” Dean said, turning from Aaron to hide the dread in his eyes.

Aaron moved closer to him on the bed until his head was almost in Dean’s lap. The touch felt all wrong. The feel of Aaron was like tiny needles on his skin. His breaths came harder and deeper, and it took every ounce of his strength not to push Aaron off of him.

“You want some help with that before I go?” Aaron said, breath teasing against his erect cock.

“Don’t think we have time,” Dean lied. He didn’t have to be at work for another hour and a half, but he wasn’t about to put himself through the pain just for an orgasm. If he was lucky, he’d jerk off a few times before jumping in the shower.

Aaron only seemed offended for maybe a moment before he sat up and shrugged, slipping out of Dean’s bed to retrieve his scattered clothing. It wasn’t long before Aaron was dressed and walking towards the door.

To end this rut and fast, Dean knew his body needed to knot someone. And that someone was Castiel.  

He hadn’t even knotted Aaron. Aaron wasn’t a fan of it, and it didn’t bother Dean to oblige Aaron’s request, even if Dean liked to knot when fucking someone. But last night, he’d felt like he was fighting a war with his body as he fucked wildly into Aaron’s wet heat. His body both craved and rejected Aaron. It recognized there was an omega on his cock, but it wasn’t _his_ omega.

It wasn’t Cas.

Aaron was supposed to take the edge off, but instead Dean was the most on edge he’d been in months, maybe even a year.

Dean wanted to be a decent host at least and followed Aaron, bothering only to put on a loose pair of sweatpants that had been tossed on the floor.

“Call me if you still need help with… that,” Aaron said, letting his hands trace Dean’s erection through his sweatpants.

It was bizarre how a touch that would normally have him melting and pliant could make him so tense and uncomfortable, but Aaron was managing. He didn’t want his touch, or anyone’s for that matter. Today was definitely a shut himself in his office day.

“Yeah—I will.”

He was sure Aaron knew just as well as he did that it wasn’t going to happen, but Dean offered a consolation prize in the form of a quick kiss before shutting the door behind him. As he leaned against the door frame, he knew his long day was just getting started. In fact, the furious amount of jerking off he would have to accomplish today would be the easier of the day’s tasks.

______________________________________________

 

“Come again?” Dean said, struggling to choke back the added bite to his words. “You want another addition to this restaurant now?”

On the tv screen, he could see Amara relaxed, sitting back in her big chair, one leg crossed over the other and an amused smirk displayed on her bright red lips.

“You heard correctly, Dean. We want to add a second floor outdoor seating area now. The board has already approved the extra funds for it,” she answered coolly.

Between Amara Shurley and Castiel Novak, there was clearly a conspiracy to make him suffer even worse during his rut.

He almost escaped the conference call with Amara unscathed, a miracle since he’d accomplished nothing thus far at work. Every time he tried to think or draw up some additional designs for the project, his brain shut down.

He’d taken suppressants before he’d left the apartment and caked on about a pound of dampeners before he’d walked inside. Nothing changed; he was stuck with a perpetual boner and constant sex daydreams, not to the mention the wonder and fascination with Cas. He found himself embarrassed by the things he imagined about Cas.

Dean couldn’t kick his horniness, and it made his mood fluctuate between irritable and downright murderous. He was lucky it was Benny who had walked into his office unannounced earlier, since his body found any alpha within his presence a challenge. He had snapped at Benny, and almost immediately, Benny knew what was going on, shaking his head and laughing, “geez you stink. You got it bad, Dean.”

Instead of taking Benny’s advice and calling in, he sat in the conference room, bullshitting his way through a meeting he was grossly unprepared for; the omega his heart, mind, and body craved only two seats down. Cas still smelled off, and Dean knew it was all the damn medications he was using to break their bond. It made him want to break a table thinking about it.  Cas had hardly even acknowledged him since they’d sat in the room. That might’ve been the worst part of the whole day.

“And let me guess, you need it tomorrow? I’m gonna have to slave away and rebuild this entire model by tomorrow,” he said, letting his barely contained anger boil over.

Castiel’s eyes snapped to him. It was a paralyzing moment when Dean turned to look at him. Even though he couldn’t smell Castiel, he could almost recall the scent of the frustrated omega wafting in his nostrils. He remembered that Castiel had just as much riding on this as he did, which is probably why Castiel was glaring at him.

“I think what Dean means to say,” Castiel said, quickly speaking up, “is that we would like to have more time than we usually are given to turn the new model and cost analysis over to you.”

Amara’s face was unreadable. Dean prayed Amara couldn’t feel him challenging her across a video screen or he was screwed.

“You have until Sunday. I want it ready to present to the board by then. Is that plenty of time?” she asked, her question directed right at Dean, challenging him with those solid brown eyes.

Dean had a snippy reply ready to go, but before he could open his mouth Cas had already answered, “Yes. That should be enough,” robbing him of his chance to, thankfully.  

“Good. I expect the model on my desk by Sunday afternoon. Have a good rest of your day.”

Amara didn’t wait for them to reply before the screen feed was cut, their reflections clear in the blank tv screen. In it, he could see Castiel’s gaze return to him, and his body decided now would be a great time to send all the blood rushing down to the growing bulge in his pants.

Shit, he really needed to get this out of his system.

“Dean, do I even need to tell you how stupid that was,” Castiel berated.

Dean didn’t want to look in Cas’ direction, afraid of the reaction his body would have. But it was hard when those were the first words Cas had spoken directly to him in days, since their conversation in the stairwell. It was sad how he savored the deep rasp of Cas’ voice.

“Look, Cas, I’m not apologizing for it. Chick’s got no clue the shit I gotta do just to make her stupid restaurant happen.”

“Still,” Castiel cut in. “It’s no excuse to speak that way to the client. You could’ve lost us this project and ruined both of our reputations with your outburst.”

“Because that’s all you care about, right?”

The immediate glare he received from Cas had quickly silenced whatever was going to come out of his mouth next. It was clear Cas had no clue that he was in rut. Not that it explained his behavior, but it was disappointing that Cas couldn’t scent Dean the way Dean could him.

“I would prefer that you keep our personal relationship out of this,” Cas said, ire obvious in that calm, quiet tone of his. “You embarrassed yourself in front of the client and as a result, me, and I do not feel like taking the fall for your mistakes.”

“The fall?” Dean said, eyes narrowed in confusion now. “The hell are you talking about, Cas?”

The irritation never left Cas’ face, like a perpetual storm cloud had settled in his eyes, and he shook his head and huffed.

“Figure it out, Dean. You’re an alpha and I’m an omega. Both of us are successful, but guess who gets the blame if you screw this project up?”

Cas’ tone was accusatory and angry enough that Dean wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be feeling right now and his stomach was twisted in confliction.

“Cas… you think I’d let you take the fall if I screwed up?” he murmured, scared to hear his response.

The anger in Cas’ face faded as he looked away from Dean, in its place a quiet, shameful look confirmed the suspicion. Dean swallowed. Damn rut had him even more emotional than he normally would be; he felt like his entire world had been turned upside down.

Dean stood up and swallowed down the dry lump forming in his throat as he gathered what little he’d brought into the meeting.

“Dean… wait. I—”

“No, I get it, Cas. I was outta line and you were right to call me on it. I’ll—uh—call Amara or send her an email apologizing.”

Dean swore he could scent the tiniest hint of regret on Cas, but through all the medications Cas was taking to break their mating bond,  it must have been wishful thinking.

“I’ll see ya, Cas.”

He was out the door before Cas could stop him, escaping to the confines of his own office where he slammed the door harder than he should have. His rut was getting worse every second. Honestly, it was a miracle he wasn’t humping his desk yet. Beads of sweat dripped down his forehead and his body was a furnace. The only comfort he could imagine was Cas. But he knew where they stood now.

All he had to look forward to was a slow painful day and a slow painful night spent working on Amara’s stupid additions.

Death might feel better than this.

______________________________________________

 

Garbage. Every single model he’d designed or drawn since his meeting with Amara was utter crap.

It was almost nine and the sun had set, leaving it pitch black outside minus the street lamps surrounding the building. The office was empty and even the janitors had made their rounds before starting their weekends. But even with the silence and lack of interruptions that came with being alone, he still made no progress on his designs.

It didn’t help that he was fourteen hours into his rut and his symptoms showed no signs of dissipating any time soon.

Dean was on edge—tense—trying hard to focus on work to stop himself from rutting against the nearest hard surface, knotting and coming in his pants. He wasn’t a horny teenager anymore

He was stripped almost as bare as he could professionally be, his jacket thrown over the back of his chair, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows, buttons partially undone, and tie loose around his neck. It did little to allay the inferno raging inside his body.

His office was littered with crumpled up balls of sketch paper he’d drawn on and several bags of chips he’d made Benny get for him in lieu of an actual meal. He was still hungry and he should’ve known better than to skip a full meal, especially when in rut.

Benny and Charlie both tried to pull him out of the office and out to dinner, but he refused. He opted to order an entire pizza and have the secretary bring it to his office where he devoured it all in less than an hour. Fucking heat had him eating worse than usual.

As the day progressed, he’d become hypersensitive to any omega scent, each one making his stomach churn worse. This fucking mating bond would be the end of him, especially when he had no hopes of acting on it.

Fuck Cas. His body thought it in a much different way than his mind did.

He understood Cas’ point of view. He knew omegas had it harder in the business world and that Cas had to work three times harder than Dean to get the same—no—a fraction of the respect Dean did. And Cas didn’t owe him anything. He had every right to break their mating bond if he didn’t want it. But, God, did Dean fucking want it.

He could keep their secret. They could’ve made this work. He and Cas would be mates in secret if Cas wanted. He’d even consider quitting his job if it meant having Cas, which is the point he realized his rut was reaching critical levels.

But Cas didn’t want it—didn’t want him—and Dean had no choice but to respect that.

Still, it  didn’t make him feel any better or keep his emotions in any better check, especially as he stared down at another failed sketch that didn’t match at all the requirements Amara had sent them.

“Goddamnit!” he barked as he threw his pen at the door of his office, still closed as though he was locking himself in.

He folded his head in his hands, and let his fingers card through the damp bed of hair.

Dean was hungry, angry, and horny, and nothing was fucking working out for him right now. He was almost tempted to call the police on himself because he was an unpredictable alpha balancing on the precipice of losing it.

He jumped when there was couple of light raps against his door, and cursed himself as he probably scared some poor soul still stuck here too. Maybe it was one of the security guards or something, though that theory was flawed because those assholes just sat in the office napping and watching tv all day. Thank God no one had actually tried to rob Sandover before.

The knocks came again and he huffed before leaning back in his chair and muttering a slight curse under his breath at his current disheveled appearance.

“Come in.”

Of all the people he expected to see at nine o’clock at night on a Friday in the office, Cas was not one of them. The first thing Dean saw when he looked up were blue eyes. Blue eyes studying him almost like a deer would gaze upon a wolf before running for its life.

Cas looked nervous, but Dean was wondering how and why Cas would even feel that way around him.

He might’ve snapped a little in the office, but Cas had given it right back to him.

“Cas? The hell are you still doing here?” he questioned.

Castiel closed the door, and Dean swallowed because in many ways he felt like that was a dangerous move. He was still very much in rut and it was possible Cas didn’t know, what with all the medications he was on.

“I had things to finish up before I left for the weekend, but then I saw you were still online on your email and wanted to see if you were still here,” Cas answered, voice eerily calm despite his demeanor.

That’s when Dean got the first whiff. It was a very subtle hint of Cas’ sweet honeyed-cinnamon aroma. It was scary how much of a welcomed relief it was. The absence of scent on Cas the last time they’d been in the same room had incensed him. Despite his approval at the return of Cas’ scent, he felt his rut worsening. His body temperature was rising, his forehead drenched in sweat, and his cock was uncomfortably hard, the base of his knot beginning to swell with want.

“Yeah, well, here I am still. Fucking Amara and her stupid additions are ruining my fucking weekend. Not to mention all the other shit I got going on.”

Castiel surveyed the room before turning to Dean as though he’d deduced some grand puzzle. “You’re in rut.”

“What, you couldn’t already tell?” Dean mockingly asked. Castiel glared and now Dean somehow felt like an asshole again. “Look, my bad. It hasn’t exactly been a good day for me, and I’m trying not to take it out on anyone.”

“You’re doing a very poor job, if that’s the case. This does explain your outburst with Amara earlier.”

“Yeah well, my rut wasn’t the only reason, but it sure didn’t help.”

As he stared Cas down, he noticed a visible shift in his posture and demeanor. Where Cas had come in cautious and stiff, he was now calm and relaxed. Blue eyes were dialating, and Cas’ scent was filling the room like a thick haze. Dean was confident his cock was poking through his boxers.

He had to get Cas out of here because— _fuck_ — he’d end up doing something out of desperation. Something he’d regret.

“Dean,” Cas said, voice light almost like a whimper. It was intentional. It was that same breathy whine he greeted Dean with when he showed up at his apartment.

Cas’ voice rang in his ears and his body shivered. There was want— _need_ —in his voice. So many weeks without Cas in his bed made him weak to Cas’ rough voice honeyed with lust. The scent of slick wafted in the room between them, and Dean felt his mental capacity slipping.

“Cas—you’re playing a _real_ dangerous game here,” Dean warned, his fingers gripping the edge of his desk.

“Dean… I smell someone else on you,” Cas said, his voice a growl of disapproval now. Cas took a few tentative steps forward, and Dean was confused, but all he could do was wipe the sweat dripping down his brow.

“Cas—you gotta stop—you don’t know what you’re about to do. _Fuck,_ I’m in rut. You can’t play with me—not right now,” Dean groaned.

“Who says I’m playing?” Cas warned. He stopped right in front of Dean’s desk, and Dean’s knuckles gripped the mahogany, trying to resist every urge to pull Cas towards him. “Dean—hate that smell— _hate_ it on you so much. Need to fucking get it off you.”

“Cas—we can’t—you said—”

“Fuck what I said, Dean,” Castiel barked. “You’re in rut and I—fuck, I _can’t stand_ that stench on you. Another fucking omega.” Cas rounded the desk, stalking needily into Dean’s space. His collarbones—scent glands—were on display for Dean in a teasing form of submission. “I need— _Please_ , Dean. _Please_.”

Dean knew what Cas was doing. He was waiting for Dean to command it. Dean was the alpha, and Cas enjoyed giving Dean the illusion of control over him. Dean was in rut and Cas could still smell Aaron. Apparently, he hadn’t done a good job of washing Aaron’s scent off of him, but if that meant having Cas standing here, angry and desperate for Dean this way, he didn’t regret it one bit.

If they were going to make a mistake, they might as well do it now. Any rational thoughts were silenced and he acted purely on alpha instinct. He wanted only one thing and that was to claim the omega in front of him.

He was out of his seat and taking Cas’ mouth in a second, drinking down the whine from the omega’s lips while wrapping himself in Cas’ scent. Cas clutched the fabric of his shirt when Dean let his hands rest on the skin of Cas’ collarbones.

Cas, somehow, was hungrier for this than even Dean in his rut was, letting his lips trail away from Dean’s mouth, kissing his way down to Dean’s own scent glands, sucking marks into them.

“Fuck—Cas,” he sighed.

He grabbed at Cas, but it wasn’t enough. His cock needed to be buried inside Cas, to feel that tight, wet heat around his knot. These clothes were preventing him from getting just that.

His fingers found Cas’ pants, fumbling to undo his belt while Cas whimpered into his neck at the rushed touches, pawing at Dean’s shirt to remove it, undoing one button at a time with shaky fingers.

It only took a few moments for Dean to remove Cas’ belt and he all but yanked Cas’ pants down, uncaring if he’d ruined them, and the scent that hit his nose had him almost coming on the spot. Cas was biting at his neck, his hands scratching at Dean’s now exposed chest after undoing several buttons of his shirt.

Cas was fucking wet for him. Dean could see Cas’ underwear damp with slick, and more was sliding down his leg. Dean wanted to lap at it—taste it. He fucking needed it. Cas’ slick was like fucking ambrosia to him and he’d been deprived for too long.

Without warning, he reached behind Cas and let a finger slip into Cas’ wet hole, the slick, wet sound of it making Dean groan in need and Cas mewl. He pulled his finger free, relishing how wet it was before he popped it in his mouth, tongue swirling to suck the taste of Cas’ slick off his finger and savoring every drop of it, that primal part of him greedy for more.

“Fuck—Cas—taste so fucking good,” he praised, making the omega whimper.

He let his finger slip inside again this time pumping in and out to test how open and loose Cas was for him. Instead, he felt a near river of slick start to slide out, coating his hand now. He pulled his finger free and licked his hand, then held it out for Cas who knew exactly what to do and licked it clean. He was such a good fucking omega.

“Fucking taste so good, don’t you baby. You taste that slick? _Your slick_?”

Cas answered with a weak nod and a whimper that had Dean’s cock twitching.

“Dean—need—want you in me. Please—Dean… _alpha_ ,” Cas begged.

Cas appealing to the alpha in him had every remaining wall crumbling hard, and Dean flipped Cas around hard and fast, knocking papers and pens onto the floor as Cas braced himself over Dean’s desk. Castiel knew just how to position himself, arching his back just enough in the presenting form, and Dean didn’t bother to stifle the growl that fell from his lips.

Cas’ hole was a pretty pink even through the slick coating and dribbling out of it. A strong hunger settled in his stomach, wanting to lick it all up, suck it down, and share the taste of it on his lips with Cas. But then Cas started rutting against him, uncaring that Dean’s pants were stained with his slick. All Dean could think of was getting his cock inside Cas, breeding him like he wanted.

He pushed Castiel down on the desk, just hard enough to get him to stop rutting against him and he undid his own pants, relishing in the trail of slick Cas had left behind on his clothes.

When his own cock was free he didn’t hesitate to rut against Cas, sliding between his cheeks, lubing himself up on the slick dripping from Cas’ needy ass. Cas pushed back against him, breathing harder and faster.

“Fuck—Cas.” It was a miracle he could form Cas’ name, his brain so clouded with lust that all he could think of was breeding Cas— _his omega_.

“D-Don’t play around, Dean. Fuck me. Fuck me hard,” Castiel begged.

Dean felt Cas’ entire body shake as Dean let his cock breach the tight muscle, forcing out a spurt of slick as Cas’ hole puckered and sucked Dean’s cock in needily. Cas was just as tight and hot as Dean expected and he was white-knuckling the desk, desperately trying to stave off his orgasm. Even in his rut he at least wanted to have a little fun.

“Dean-Dean. Feel—so good.”

Cas moaned and Dean couldn’t help the rushed thrusts shoving his cock deeper inside Cas, his mind focused on Cas full of him. Cas was restless, pushing back on his cock trying to get it deeper, but Dean was already buried completely inside him.

“Fuck,” Dean groaned, pulling out before slamming back in, his mind no longer focused on going slow and easy.

He found a steady rhythm as he draped himself over Cas, feeling an icy-hot sensation where his skin was flush against Cas’ back, hands now plastered over Cas’ and his face buried in the back of Cas’ neck breathing in that scent like a drug.

The entire time he wasn’t the least bit concerned if someone walked in and saw them like this. Career be damned. He wanted Cas and he finally had him.

“More, Dean!” Cas growled, his voice filled with an unsettled rage. Even in his rut, Dean was sure Cas would be the one who would be insatiable.

Dean obliged and let his hips roll, cock slipping in and out of Cas, the base of his cock already swelling as it dragged along the tight, slick, heat inside Cas. Every startled yelp and cry made Dean pump harder.

“Oh, fuck,” Dean moaned. Cas was clenching around him, squirming to meet every thrust and desperate to lock Dean’s knot, and Dean was happy to oblige. He wanted nothing more than to breed Cas. Fill him up with his come. Dean knew Cas was no doubt on suppressants, so pregnancy wasn’t a possibility, but even the thought of Cas carrying his children one day had him thrusting harder.

“Dean—f-faster. Please,” Cas cried as he attempted to push back and meet Dean’s every thrust.

Dean grabbed Cas’ hips and held him still, letting his fingers dig into flesh. Cas may like being in control, but here and now, Dean was in charge.

“You like that, Cas? Like me filling you like only I can? Gonna breed you real fuckin’ good,” Dean muttered.

He set a brutal pace fucking into Cas, the sloppy sound of their skin slapping against each other filling the room. Dean hardly noticed that Cas’ cock was leaking precome all over his desk, and his latest design was coated in it.

Dean took some glee in seeing Cas so close just from his cock alone.

“Dean, do it!” Cas begged, his voice so tight and whiney.

“Do what? Tell me what you need, omega. Tell me, baby,” Dean whispered, not even hiding that urgent tone in his voice to please Cas—to please his omega.

Cas cried out as Dean gripped his hips tighter, forcing his cock further through Cas’ clenched muscles.

“Tell-me-Cas,” Dean growled through his thrusts.

“Knot me—p—please, Dean— _alpha_!” Cas screamed, uncaring of anyone who might still be around.

Dean saw stars and a raging hurt flared throughout his entire body. Growling, he leaned down and bit Cas, right over where his scent glands were, making the omega yelp. Dean put his claim on Cas. He mate-bit him. His knot swelled and locked as Dean came, filling Cas with no doubt an ungodly amount of come.

He tried to fuck Cas still, the knot stretching and pulling on Cas’ rim, but rather than cries of pain Cas was crying in desperation still rocking back into Dean, convulsing as he milked Dean for every ounce of come. Dean felt a tightness around him and realized Cas had come, a pool of milky-white sitting right on his desk, and Dean had to resist licking it up.

The haze in his brain scattered as silent minutes passed, the sound of only their breathing filling the room and their combined scent creating the most pleasant aroma Dean had ever smelled.

They smelled of each other—of mates. The thought had another convulsion and pump of come filling Cas.

But like all good things, his bliss came to a sudden end when he realized just what the hell they’d done. He and Cas… they were going to have a very long conversation because there was no going back. Fuck, he’d even done the mating bite on him.

Sure, science had proven that mating bites were symbolic only and held no effect on mating bonds, but still, it meant something to Dean. He’d never mate-bit someone in his rut.

“Jesus, Cas. That was amazing,” Dean said in between pants.

To his surprise he heard Cas laugh before leaning back into him. “Yes, it was quite enjoyable. More than the porn videos make office sex seem.”

Dean gently held Cas and with the omega in his embrace, he lowered them to the floor, careful as his knot that was still no doubt filling Cas. They were a sloppy mess, slick and come on them both, their hair matted with sweat, and clothes rumpled. He’d definitely be going out the emergency exit tonight.  

For now, Cas was not protesting at the arm Dean put over him. It had Dean’s heart fluttering with hope that this could be the start of many more moments like this, without the office at least. They had about thirty minutes before Dean’s knot would go down and while he was happy now, he wasn’t excited about discussing the ramifications of what they’d done once the post-sex bliss wore off.

He let Cas’ quiet breathing comfort him. He was no longer aware of his own cock still filling Cas. He was focused solely on Cas’ warmth against his body.


	6. Chapter 6

As was typical, Dean’s knot had taken about half an hour to go down. Thirty minutes felt like a lifetime as Castiel lay quietly beside him. Dean’s arm was wrapped around him, and Cas felt Dean’s thumb tracing lazy circles into his skin. As the post-sex haze cleared, he was trying to piece together what the hell he’d just done. Even with Dean’s knot down enough that they could pull apart, neither of them felt an urgency to move.

He’d told himself that he was just going to check on Dean. After they had their meeting with Amara, he felt guilty about how things had progressed between him and Dean. They hadn’t talked in person since Castiel told him he was taking medications to break their premature mating bond, and seeing Dean so on edge, even if he now knew he wasn’t the cause of it, upset him.

When he’d leveled that accusation against Dean, that he’d let him take the blame if this failed project, it unsettled him. Cas didn’t believe it for a moment. Dean wasn’t that kind of alpha. And when he said it, he wanted so badly to take it back, but the damage was done.

For a brief moment, he could smell Dean. His alpha scent. That rotten scent of rejection and hurt that plagued him for a solid week. It had unnerved him all day when he went back to his desk. Even with all the prescribed medications Hannah gave him, something about Dean’s scent slipped through, and it startled him.

All day he wanted to apologize to Dean, but the confusion of scenting Dean and what that could mean left him uneasy.

In hindsight, waiting until they were all alone in the office was the worst idea.

He had no intentions of having sex with Dean, but then the scent of an alpha—no—his alpha, in rut had driven him crazy.  

Dean was silent behind him, like a warm furnace on his back as they lay huddled together. He felt safe and comfortable like this, Dean’s arm around him, his face pressed in the back of Cas’ neck. A couple times Dean kissed him, seemingly unable to keep his mouth off him.

It felt good, but it also scared the shit out of him.

It scared him how much he loved this. How much he craved Dean in ways he craved no one else.

“What’s wrong?” Dean asked, pulling him from his thoughts. He felt Dean shift, and his cock slip from inside him. Cas shuddered at the loss of feeling but tried to hide it.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Your scent just spiked. Don’t know what it means, but I figure it ain’t good.”

Castiel sat quietly, ignoring the feeling of cold come and slick dribbling down his cheeks.

“Cas?” Dean asked softly.

“I’m fine, Dean,” Castiel said, smiling to ease Dean’s worry. “I was just thinking is all.”

“Penny for your thoughts?” Dean chuckled.

That was just the thing. His thoughts were all over the place. At the forefront of his mind was the fear of having to face the fact that he liked Dean, and he was not at all averse to the idea that he and Dean were slowly, but surely, mating.

“It’s nothing. Just that,” he stopped as he sighed and moved away from Dean, ignoring Dean’s protesting grunt as he continued, “Dean, we shouldn’t have done this.”

Castiel had to hold in the whine that threatened to escape when he felt Dean tighten behind him, the sudden spike in Dean’s pheromones putting him on edge.

“Cas, I really hope you mean we shouldn't've had sex in my office,” Dean said, a sharp edge to his tone now.

Castiel sighed. “That was a mistake as well. But, I was referring to us doing this at all. I shouldn’t have come here.”

Dean backed away from him and Castiel turned to watch Dean pull himself up to his feet, his green eyes wide in shock.

“What the hell?” Dean growled. Cas scampered to get up so he was face to face with Dean.

“Dean, I take full responsibility for my actions in this, but you and I—we can’t do this. We shouldn’t do th—.”

“No—no. Cas, you don’t get to just come in here and fuck me when I’m in rut and tell me that this was a mistake.” The rage and hurt in Dean’s eyes saw the return of that nauseous feeling in Castiel’s stomach. Every time he opened his mouth he felt like his lunch would come back up. “You and I are way past the whole friends with fucking benefits. For God’s sake, we have a damn mating bond.”

“A mating bond we didn’t plan on,” Castiel bit back. He wasn’t sure where this anger came from but he was going to go with it. “Dean, I told you from the start that you and I are nothing more than friends. We sleep together, but we can’t be anything more than that.”

Dean’s face was frozen in a half-snarl, looking ready to put his fist through any nearby surface which would be a shame given how nice his office was.

“Right, because somehow you think having a mate will ruin your fucking plans of making it to the top. Do you fucking hear yourself, Cas?”

It was Castiel’s turn now to snarl. How dare Dean act like it was that easy—like Castiel wouldn’t be the first one picked over for any type of promotion if people knew he was fucking the golden boy alpha. He’d already seen it happen. Several times in fact. He refused to be one of the statistics.

“I hear myself very clearly, Dean,” Castiel said, surprising himself with how dark his tone got with the alpha. “You don’t understand what it’s like for me. Every second, someone waiting for you to fail because you’re an omega, and omegas don’t work in accounting or get management positions. I can take a mate if I want, but if I do, then I open myself up to heats, pregnancy, and sudden mockery that I can’t focus on the job. But you—Dean Winchester, the golden child of project management—you’d get a fucking award for mating someone. In fact, they’d probably promote you for taking a mate, especially someone like me.”

Castiel pulled his pants up, not at all concerned of the mess they would be. That was the least of his worries.

Dean continued to glare, and Castiel was getting extremely nauseated by Dean’s scent. It was acrid and bitter now, and his body was so attuned to it that there was absolutely no trace that he’d even taken his medications earlier today.

“You think I’d let people do that to you, Cas?” Dean said, his voice so shockingly soft that Castiel’s anger melted away. Where there had been anger, there was now disappointment.

“Dean—”

“No. Just—fuck, Cas—I want you. I want you so fucking bad,” Dean cut him off. Castiel swallowed. Dean’s admission scared him. It scared the hell out of him—because he wanted Dean so badly too. “Cas, you don’t owe me shit, I got that loud and clear. But when you said you and I had a mating bond, I got excited at the chance that maybe you want me as bad as I want you. And part of me being your mate would be people knowing how fucking hard you work for this shitty company.”

Castiel was speechless and wanted nothing more than to disappear. The longer he was around Dean, the faster the carefully crafted defenses he’d spent years building up crumbled and fell apart.

“I can’t—we can’t,” Castiel sighed before he allowed the words to leave his lips, “we can’t do this, Dean. I’m sorry. I wish it was different.”

Dean just nodded his head, and rather than stay angry, Dean gave him a small smile, and it nearly broke Castiel’s heart, if he could even say he had one now.

“Yeah, I wish it was too.”

Castiel took that as his cue to leave, not bothering to button his shirt up all the way or even make himself look slightly presentable. And how could he. He was still full of Dean, and not just his come. His heart, his mind, every pore in his body was crying out for Dean.

Castiel knew his body had claimed Dean as his alpha, but Castiel also recognized that he had feelings for Dean. He couldn’t deny that simple fact. But he would, because he decided a long time ago that mating wasn’t for him, not now. Maybe never.

And as he left Dean’s office, leaving his alpha standing there, he didn’t bother to wipe away the few tears that slowly trickled down his cheek. He let himself, _his omega,_ have this one moment of mourning for what he couldn’t have.

Tomorrow, it would be back to business as usual.

______________________________________________

 

Castiel never tried to imagine what hell would feel like, but he was pretty sure he was currently living it.

Ever since that night in Dean’s office everything had gone downhill for him. There had been zero communication between him and Dean outside of email, and he was afraid to go to the conference room for their weekly updates with Amara. Instead, he opted in from his desk.

Dean’s voice still sent a shiver down his spine and he couldn’t imagine what seeing him would do.

Dean hadn’t been the one to initiate the emails. His replies were always short and unlike him. Castiel had tried to chalk it up to typical email conversation, but he knew the truth.

Dean was angry. He was mad. He had every right to hate Castiel, and Castiel wouldn’t be surprised if he did. He left Dean in his rut, after all.

And worse, Bartholomew seemed to be picking up on something because every time Castiel turned around, Bartholomew was there, circling him like a shark that could scent blood in the water. Maybe he could sense Castiel was off. He’d made a few mistakes in some spreadsheets, nothing major, but just enough that it gave Bartholomew an opportunity to potentially undermine him. It had Castiel seething, but he kept his cool—for now.

After another week of stress, of no talking to or with Dean, of getting little accomplished on this project that was earning him the ire of Naomi and other senior management members, it was finally the weekend, and for the first time in a while, he had no plans.

He felt a little under the weather, like his body was constantly hot, and his skin somewhat sensitive to anyone’s touch, but he passed it off as a symptom of stress and nothing more. Worst case scenario, he had the flu.

He would simply relax, maybe watch television or read a book, and keep taking his dwindling supply of medication, hoping this mating bond thing would go away soon.

He was not prepared for a very loud intruder to come bursting through his door at eleven in the morning on Saturday.

“Yoohoo! Cassie!” Gabriel’s shrill cry startled Castiel up from his relaxed position on the couch.

“No… please, no,” he murmured, silently praying he’d only dozed off and imagined the voice he heard. As he looked towards the door of his apartment, he saw the short stature and long hair belonging to his older brother as he flew into living room.

“There’s my baby bro,” Gabriel greeted, smile wide as he pulled the lollipop out of his mouth.

“Gabriel? What are you doing here?” Castiel asked, shocked.

Gabriel plopped down on the couch next to him, and Castiel reluctantly moved to make room for him.

“Kali gave me the day off from the shop, so I decided to take a day trip and come visit my favorite brother!”

Castiel huffed and rolled his eyes. “A phone call or text would’ve been nice.”

“What and miss the chance to surprise you? I’m just sad I didn’t catch you in action with someone like I did last time,” Gabriel teased.

Castiel’s cheeks burned at the bitter memory of Gabriel walking in on him and Dean during one of their rare morning after escapades. He only remembered nearly punching Dean in the eye in panic when he heard Gabriel clear his throat to alert them of his presence. Now he was wondering if he was blushing more in embarrassment or his thoughts about Dean.

“Woah… someone’s turning beet red,” Gabriel pointed. “Nothing to be ashamed of baby bro. How many times did you walk in on me in high school?”

More memories he didn’t want to think about flooded his brain and he shuddered at the thought of them.

“Speaking of, where is Dean-O? Don’t tell me you haven’t locked him down yet?” Gabriel asked, looking around the apartment in total seriousness.

“Dean isn’t here, and I won’t be mating or locking him down at all,” Castiel answered sharply.

Gabriel gave him that knowing look, cocking his eyebrow in that smug manner. “Right… you just happen to tell me the name of all your hook-ups.”

“Just drop it, Gabriel,” Castiel sighed, abandoning the prospect of even trying to hide the truth.

“Aww, buck up, Cassie,” Gabriel cheered. Gabriel pushed his legs off the couch and attempted to get Castiel off the couch. “C’mon, get up and get dressed, we’ve got things to do today and I’ve got limited time.”

Castiel groaned, but knew better to fight against Gabriel. He would find some way to annoy him if he didn’t comply. It was just how his brother worked.

“No groaning, bucko. You could at least show a little bit of gratitude since I’m buying your lunch today.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

Gabriel didn’t answer, but motioned at Castiel’s bedroom. Defeated, Castiel slinked off, throwing on whatever clothes he could find before coming back out to see Gabriel raiding his pantry and fridge, no doubt on a hunt for something sweet.

“You know, you’ve got a pretty shitty stock of food,” Gabriel called out as Castiel re-entered his kitchen. “Seriously, do you even eat anymore?”

“I eat fine. Now will you tell me where we’re going?” Castiel bemoaned.

“Well, I was gonna take you shopping so we can catch up first, but thanks to your shitty selection of food, we’re going to lunch first.” Gabriel slammed the cabinets and fridge shut before leaning against the counter and giving Castiel a very judgmental look. “Mexican or Italian, and I’m not talking about your preference in bed.”

Castiel’s eyeballs would roll into the back of his head and find themselves stuck there before the day was over.

“Chop chop, Cassie. I’m starving.”

As much as Castiel was loath to leave his apartment, his stomach growled, and the thought of a big plate of nachos sounded too appetizing to pass up. In fact, when he thought about it, he was close to starving. Combined with the fact that he’d been running hot, he was starting to have fleeting thoughts of going into heat. But it had been years since he’d gone into heat. Stress was probably behind his sudden hunger.

“Fine. Mexican.”

“Good choice. Both in food tastes and sexual tastes. Now let’s go.”

Castiel rolled his eyes, but obliged his brother, throwing on a pair of shoes scattered around the door before following Gabriel out to his car, a red convertible with the top down that had Castiel rolling his eyes again.

“Don’t give me that look. She drives like a beauty, and you’ll be begging me to let you drive her before the day’s over.”

“I hardly believe that,” Castiel sighed as he buckled into the passenger’s side before Gabriel started the car, driving as wildly as Castiel expected his brother to. Some things, such as Gabriel’s reckless driving habits, never seemed to change.

“Where are we going?” Castiel asked.

“Just shut up and let me drive,” Gabriel said.

Castiel did just that, though he wasn’t afraid to admit that he had his eyes closed half the time praying that Gabriel didn’t crash into something or someone. When he finally felt the car slow down, he found that Gabriel had parked them outside some hole-in-the-wall restaurant that he’d never seen before, even though this was his city, or so he liked to think.

“How did you even find this place?” Castiel asked.

Gabriel shrugged as he shut and locked the car door. “I know a guy.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Doesn’t matter. Do you want free lunch or not?”

Castiel sighed and nodded before following Gabriel into the quaint restaurant where they were seated in a small, secluded booth for two. Though the exterior left much to be desired, Castiel was pleasantly surprised by the charming designs lining the inside.

“So, now that I’ve got you here, tell me about you and Dean,” Gabriel started, almost immediately after the chips and salsa had been dropped on the table.

Castiel’s muscles tensed at the mention of Dean’s name, and now he knew exactly what Gabriel was up to and why he’d brought him out to lunch.

“I would rather not discuss Dean,” he deflected.

“Yeah, well, I want to discuss Dean, and let’s be real here, I can make you talk one way or another,” Gabriel muttered through a mouthful of chips.

The waitress came and took their orders, giving Castiel only a brief reprieve from Gabriel’s no doubt continued questions.

“So, back to you,” Gabriel pointedly said. “You and Dean. What’s the story?”

“There is no story. Dean and I have, or had, a mutually beneficial agreement. That’s it.”

“So what, you kicked him to the curb for some other alpha? Cassie, you little slut you,” Gabriel teased, wiggling his eyebrow as he smirked.

“There’s no other alpha. Dean wanted something more, and I couldn’t give it to him,” Castiel answered quietly, still finding it difficult to make himself believe he was speaking truthfully about how he felt.

“Let me guess, he wanted to mate you? Rub that alpha scent over your omega body and get you knocked up with this kids?” Castiel cringed at the thought, a trained reaction he developed many years ago at the thought of being mated or pregnant.

“Yes, and I made it clear I wasn’t interested in that.”

“Bullshit,” Gabriel exclaimed, shocking Castiel as he looked around to make sure no one was listening in to their conversation now. “Omega status aside, Cassie, you can’t act like you never wanted the whole kit and caboodle: a mate, a house with a white picket fence, two point five kids, and all that shit. You may be able to fool yourself, but you can’t fool me.”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” Castiel said, feeling himself shrinking in his seat.

He downright despised how perceptive Gabriel could be when he wanted to.

“Look here, dum-dum. It’s okay to want all of that. You can still be the pig-headed, business-minded, and hella bossy omega you are and still want to settle down with someone. Hell, just look at Michael and Lucie. Even both of those alpha assholes are looking for mates. Though, I doubt they’ll actually find someone who can tolerate them.”

That was a surprise. Though he seldom talked to his oldest siblings outside of family events, Michael and Lucifer at first glance never seemed interested in mating. They were too busy plotting to make themselves richer and, trying to ruin the other’s life.

Their drinks came out and Castiel wished he’d ordered the strongest margarita they had on the menu, judgment on heavy daytime drinking be damned. Instead of responding to Gabriel though, he sipped away mindlessly at his drink, agitating his brother until he rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Well since you wanna keep being a stubborn dick, at least tell me you’ve been getting some elsewhere if you’re not banging Dean anymore.”

Castiel felt another wave of heat surge through his face and Gabriel just smiled and chuckled to himself.

“I… haven’t had much time recently.”

Gabriel clicked his tongue and shook his head. “You got it bad, baby bro.”

“It’s not that,” Castiel blurted out. “It’s just—”

“You don’t know how to mix wanting a mate and being the corporate head bitch in charge,” Gabriel answered.

Castiel sighed and slumped down a little. “In a sense, yes.” They sat quietly, Castiel making a concerted effort to not look at Gabriel, knowing full well that his brother was giving him that smug, ‘I told you so’ look that would infuriate him.

“Lemme give you some advice,” Gabriel finally started before shoving more chips in his mouth. “You need to pull that corporate stick out of your ass, and figure your shit out before you miss out on that hot piece of ass.”

“It’s not that easy,” Castiel argued.

Gabriel leaned back in his seat and folded his arms.

“Of course it is. You don’t want to make it easy ‘cause you’ve been subscribing to that stupid new age independent omega bullshit.”

Their food was put out in front of them; Gabriel’s a plate of sizzling fajitas while Castiel looked down at his large plate of nachos. He felt slightly embarrassed at how badly he wanted to devour the entire thing and how noticeably his stomach was growling.

“Yeesh, someone needs to eat more it seems,” Gabriel mocked.

Castiel glared, but ignored his brother as he dug into his food, modesty aside as he scarfed more food down at one time then was probably acceptable. When he looked up, his brother looked mortified, but his frown quickly returned to his typical jovial grin.

“Geez, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re putting that food down like you’re in—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Castiel warned. He didn’t want the possibility spoken into existence.

“Denial ain’t a cute look,” Gabriel chided.

Castiel put his fork down long enough to look his brother dead in the eyes, giving the most earnest and serious look he could manage, which was difficult around Gabriel, who could make people laugh hysterically at a funeral.

“I assure you, I’m handling this just fine, Gabriel. I’m fine without a mate, and I’m fine without Dean.”

Gabriel just shrugged before digging into his food. “You keep telling yourself that lie and eventually you’ll believe it,” he said between bites.

Castiel squirmed at that. Gabriel’s voice was like that one in the back of his mind. Every day that voice got louder and now he was almost certain that Gabriel showing up to tell him the same thing was some form of divine punishment.

“But your love life aside, I have a long list of places for us to hit today, and we need to get some quality time in before you come to your senses. In fact, I think I might just stay the whole weekend with my favorite brother.”

Castiel’s eyes went wide and he nearly choked on his nachos.

“No, Gabriel, that’s not necessary,” he quickly dissuaded.

“Nonsense, Cassie. I mean, what else were you going to do this weekend?” Gabriel asked, raising his eyebrows in anticipation of whatever lie he knew Castiel would have to concoct. Castiel sighed and just nodded his head. He knew Gabriel wouldn’t take no for an answer. “That’s what I thought. Now c’mon, eat up. We got places to go and little time.”

As much as he wanted to pretend that Gabriel’s sudden intrusion on his weekend was unwelcomed, truthfully, Gabriel’s arrival and plans would give him a break from thinking about Dean.

At least Castiel hoped it would.

Gabriel’s sudden decision to visit was going surprisingly well so far. Dean didn’t cross his mind much all day. Not to say he didn’t think about him somewhat. When he did, there was still a pang of regret. It was Gabriel’s knowing look when it happened that made him force his thoughts to something else.

However, by midday, everything had changed.

All throughout their trip through the mall, Castiel felt his temperature rising. The mall itself was air conditioned and no one seemed to be nearly as hot as he was. He spent the entire time wiping beads of sweat from his forehead, and his undershirt had been stuck to him. And worse was the nausea. He could scent everyone and everything. All of it was offensive to his nose—each scent making his stomach churn worse than before. He wanted only one scent right now, but he dare not think too much on it.

He was in denial until he felt the first drip of slick between his cheeks. This wasn’t the flu.

He was in heat.

Horror gripped him when he finally acknowledged it. He’d taken his meds like Hannah instructed and he’d avoided Dean like the plague for the last two weeks. This shouldn’t have been happening. It was impossible.

He all but rushed Gabriel out of the mall and back home, Gabriel seemingly none the wiser that he was in heat, at least for now. But he couldn’t let Gabriel know. He’d never be rid of him. No. He just needed to placate his heat until he could make it to Hannah’s for an emergency injection, if that would even work.

That’s how he ended up at the bar with his older brother, desperately hoping he could find someone to just take the edge off. Just one knot should be enough.

The music in the bar was loud, a steady stream of current pop music blaring overhead while the smell of alcohol, cigarette smoke, and a nauseating mix of alpha and omega scents filled the air. He would’ve given anything to not be here, but he was on a mission.

“I’m kinda shocked you agreed to come out,” Gabriel said before sipping down the vibrantly colored, sugary concoction he’d procured from the bar. “You weren’t looking so hot earlier.”

Castiel swirled the scotch in his glass around, only half hearing whatever Gabriel said. The pills Hannah prescribed had done very little to curtail his heat, not that he’d expected them to. He yearned to be touched, to get the constant itch underneath his skin scratched. He tried to so hard not to think about Dean, but moments like this, where he wasn’t actively concentrating on something else, images of emerald green eyes and freckles danced around in his head.

A shrill whistle cut through to him and he looked up to see Gabriel eyeing him suspiciously.

“Did you hear a word I just said?” Gabriel questioned accusingly.

“No. I— just zoned out for a bit,” he half-heartedly apologized.

Gabriel sighed and shook his head. “You need to get laid bad.”

Castiel was so distraught and focused on his bodies current biology meltdown, he couldn’t even muster up the energy to be angry with Gabriel for his crassness. Instead, he downed the rest of his scotch in hopes that maybe the alcohol would provide a minor distraction.

Gabriel had a point though. This fog in his head that was clouding any lucid thought was frustrating. He needed a knot, and he was still ignoring that loud and vibrant yearning for that knot belonging to a certain alpha in management.  

“Yeesh, I’m not drunk enough to deal with you when you’re all mopey and in heat like this,” Gabriel sighed and drained the rest of his drink in one gulp.

Castiel’s eyes went wide and he sputtered on the last few drops of scotch. “You knew?”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Just cause I’m a beta doesn’t mean I don’t know shit about heats, baby bro. You act like I haven’t gotten down with a few randy ladies in heat before. Why else do you think I played along with your whole wanting to go out nonsense.”

A sudden wave of shame overcame Castiel and he was unsure whether this latest wave of sudden warmth in his face was embarrassment or his heat flaring up again.

“I’m sorry, Gabriel. I just needed— ”

“Nope. I am too sober to be talking about my little brother’s need to get dicked down right now. You go buy me another drink or five, and then we’ll discuss this,” Gabriel interrupted.

Castiel stared down at Gabriel’s empty glass, and sighed before obliging his older brother and making his way to the bar. When he sat both his and Gabriel’s empty glasses down, he caught a whiff of alpha nearby. It was strong, possibly stronger than all the others maybe reacting to him being in heat. It wasn’t at all alluring, but it wasn’t nauseating either.

When he looked up, he saw the scent belonged to the bartender standing in front of him. He was a beautiful man, tall, with broad shoulders, and blue eyes that honed in on him. His scent was inviting even if Castiel’s nose wasn’t partial to it. Even if his own heart and mind weren’t partial to it. He still craved green eyes and freckles.

“You look like you could use another drink,” the man said, grinning down at Castiel.

“Yes—yes. One scotch and another,” he looked down at Gabriel’s glass puzzled and shrugged, “whatever is the sweetest drink you have.”

The man smiled and laughed a little. “You must be here with the short one. He told me to make him the exact same thing.”

Castiel offered a tiny smile. “That would be my brother. I can’t decide if he’s more of an alcoholic or a sugarholic.”

“Both are good for business.” Castiel laughed and the man smiled a little wider this time. “Ezekiel,” he greeted.

“Castiel.”

“That’s a rather interesting name, but I like it,” Ezekiel complimented.

On the surface, it seemed like simple pleasantries but Castiel saw their exchange for what it was. The overwhelming amount of pheromones wafting off Ezekiel were dizzying, more dizzying than downing his scotch could be.

Ezekiel took his glasses and Castiel watched as he swiftly and dexterously poured both his and Gabriel’s drinks, looking up at Cas every so often in a hungry, yet subtle way. Castiel knew alpha posturing, and he was confident this bartender was showing off for him.

“One sex on the beach for your brother and one scotch on the rocks for you, Castiel.” The way his name rolled over Ezekiel’s tongue was… odd. His name was honeyed on the alphas tongue, a surefire way to prove his availability, and though Castiel wasn’t against how it sounded, it paled in comparison to the way Dean said his name.

“Thank you,” he said, wrapping his hands around the glasses. Castiel stayed seated, his mind a battlefield of conflicting emotions while his heat reared up again. Beads of sweat trickled down his brow, and he was positive slick was leaking now. Before long he’d be in full heat and being in public in full heat was not something he needed.

Ezekiel didn’t move an inch, not even when two people sat down at the bar waiting to place their orders.

Castiel knew he couldn’t have Dean, no matter how much he wanted him. Ezekiel would have to do for now.

“Ezekiel,” he started, getting the alpha’s attention.

“Yes, Castiel?”

“I’m sure you can no doubt tell that I’ve got a problem, and I think you’ve made it very clear that you’re more than willing to help me with my problem. Is that correct?”

Castiel watched Ezekiel’s blue eyes dilate, and it was obvious that others in the bar were attuned to both his and Ezekiel’s stench.

“Yes—yes it is.”

“Then I suggest we find our way out of this bar and back to my place.”

Castiel knew his words were tactless, but being in heat brought out the worst in him. He wanted—no—needed to get fucked, and he would be relentless in his pursuit of it.

“I get off in five,” Ezekiel said, surprise and want teeming in his voice.

Castiel drank down his scotch and slid the glass back at him.

“Good.”

For a brief moment he considered Gabriel, but his ability to reason with anything besides fulfilling that want building up underneath his skin was slipping fast. Before long he’d be leaking slick over everything and his thoughts would only be on sex, getting fucked and filled.

The aching pang in his chest—that pain that was calling out for Dean only worsened. Maybe he was ready to admit he wanted Dean. But Dean had no reason to want him now. What he did to Dean was unforgivable and maybe Ezekiel was his punishment. He couldn’t have the man he wanted, so Ezekiel would have to do.

Gabriel had been easier to get rid of than Castiel expected. In fact, it seemed Gabriel had been two steps ahead of him, already having reservations at a hotel ready to go.

Castiel only felt a flicker of shame for casting his brother out before his mind slipped into heat-craze. Ezekiel’s scent was enough to placate his heat, but not enough to truly satisfy it. But he had to make do with what he had.

When they reached his apartment, Castiel had all but forced Ezekiel up the stairs before frantically digging through his pockets for his keys.

His hands were shaking, his legs felt weak, and he had a stream of slick trailing down his thigh. He cursed not wearing protective gear, but he hadn’t expected his heat to crank up this quickly.

“You need help?” Ezekiel offered.

“No,” Castiel snapped. If he was snapping over a simple request then his heat was definitely in full force. The key clicked into place and he pushed the door open, dragging Ezekiel in by the fabric of his shirt and pulling him into a kiss so rough he wasn’t sure that their lips hadn’t busted.

Ezekiel was fervent in his pursuit, hands desperately exploring Castiel’s body, lips claiming Castiel’s own in desperation.

 _Wrong_.

The first time he thought the word he ignored it, instead focusing on undoing Ezekiel’s belt to free his cock he could feel underneath.

 _Wrong_.

The second time, he slowed, his fingers fumbling over each other, and his tongue retreating to his own mouth, letting Ezekiel do all the work as the alpha pressed Castiel up against the wall to claim what he thought was his. Ezekiel’s touches were like needles to his skin, his pores effectively rejecting them.

 _Wrong_.

The nausea returned with a bitter vengeance, threatening to empty the contents of both his lunch and dinner all over if he didn’t retreat from this interloper—this intruder who dared think he was his and not the mate of someone else. Castiel stilled. His body wasn’t cooperating. This was so unlike anything that ever happened to him before. His breathing was heavy and rushed. A cold sweat broke out across his body and he felt like he’d gone three rounds with a stomach virus. Ezekiel had taken notice now, his lips no longer on his and his gaze filled with shock and wonder.

 _Wrong_.

When Castiel opened his eyes he’d shut tight, he wanted to cry and scream. The man standing before him wasn’t Dean Winchester. Dean was somewhere else, maybe with someone else. The thought alone made his stomach cramp hard. This wasn’t just his body though. No, this reaction was a culmination of everything, body, soul, and mind. He could think clearly, or as clear as he’d be until his heat passed. Dean… he only wanted Dean. Dean wanted and would take care of him. He was always the one who could scratch that itch the way no one else could. Dean’s smile, his laugh, his brilliant emerald eyes, his everything, that’s what Castiel wanted.

“Are you alright?” Ezekiel asked in a hushed whisper.

Castiel considered his question for a moment. He wasn’t alright. He hadn’t been in so long. Every person besides Dean that he fucked had chipped away a piece of him, and he hadn’t realized how incomplete he was until this moment.

“No.” When Castiel looked up at Ezekiel he felt a brief glimmer of pity for him. He’d led him on, but that paled in comparison to what he’d done to Dean. “I—I’m sorry, Ezekiel. I can’t—I can’t do this.”

Where there would once be panic and resignation in his voice, there was realization and acceptance clouded under his lust.

“Is it something I did?” Ezekiel asked.

Castiel shook his head, but gently pushed Ezekiel back to free himself from the alpha’s embrace. He could smell Ezekiel’s hurt, but he knew there was nothing he could do. Ezekiel was not his alpha. Dean Winchester was.

“This is not your fault, Ezekiel. There’s just—there’s someone else. I’m so sorry,” Castiel apologized.

The stench of Ezekiel’s rejection was unpleasant, but it was nothing like Dean’s scent, the smell of rotting milk and eggs that had plagued him for weeks. The signs were all there that Dean was his mate, and he felt stupid he’d spent so long ignoring it until now that his body refused to accept any other alpha.

Ezekiel, probably more for his pride’s sake, offered a tiny smile of understanding, and Castiel only wished he could verbalize how much relief that brought him.

“Well, this has been sufficiently awkward, but I guess I’d rather leave with some dignity intact.”

Castiel smiled back sadly. “I wish this hadn’t happened this way, Ezekiel.”

Ezekiel nodded. “Same here.”

With that, Ezekiel walked out the door, slamming it shut behind him while Castiel stood deathly still, the sound of his voice the only thing audible in his still dark apartment.

All that was left was fear. His heat showed no signs of subsiding, and the foreign touch of another alpha had worsened it. That craving for Dean’s touch was stronger than ever before. The want, the need, the lusting for him, he’d never felt it on this level.

He cared for Dean. He wanted Dean.

Castiel contemplated calling him, but he wouldn’t know what to say. The fear of rejection was still raw. He’d broken Dean’s heart, and how could Dean, who’d put his feelings out in the open, ever trust him again? Castiel swallowed down the lump in his throat and let the moment of panic subside.

He was still consciously aware of the slick that was drenching his thighs and the hunger deep in his stomach. He needed to be _filled._ He needed to be touched and held by the only man—the only alpha that could make him feel right.

Castiel grabbed his car keys and decided— _fuck it_.

He had broken Dean’s heart, and neither a phone call, or god forbid, a fucking text would set things right. He was going to put it all on the line. He was going to do the one thing that horrified him in all these years. He was going to submit. He was going to give his everything to Dean if that’s what it took. He would be the omega Dean needed, because that’s what Castiel wanted.


	7. Chapter 7

Dean was exhausted. He’d worked sixty hour weeks for the last several weeks to get the designs ready for Amara, and he’d hardly made time to sleep much less eat. He was living on crackers and the cheap salads in the cafeteria.

He’d all but ignored Charlie and Benny’s pleas to both go out for lunch out for dinner or drinks. Dean knew what would  happen if he let them get too close. He could already hear the questions in his head. Worse was, he missed his and Sam’s weekly Skype chat. By now he knew Sam was onto it too, before long he’d be hearing from Bobby and Ellen. And to be honest, Cas was the last person Dean wanted to talk or think about.

Cas had ruined him. His stomach twisted when he thought about that night, about how he’d laid his feelings out for Cas, plain and simple, and how he had his feelings handed right back at him. Since then he was a mess. He’d barely shaved, and his suits had turned into slacks and a polo. On the surface it didn’t seem like a big deal, but being the up and coming alpha, that was a horrible idea.

Dean was angry. He was hurt. He wanted Cas. Dean knew Cas was his mate, and he didn’t want anyone else. He kept trying to make himself believe he could move on—find someone else who made him feel the way Cas did. That warmth he felt whenever he touched Cas, when he could smell him, when he had his arms wrapped around him for even that brief moment before their fantasy was ruined, that was irreplaceable.

But that wasn’t what Cas wanted. The lack of Cas’ scent left a hollow feeling in his chest. When he breathed, he sometimes thought he could smell Cas, but it was nothing more than a trick of his mind. Work and booze were his only distractions.

Today, he resolved to change things around. He’d spent the better part of two weeks a shell of his former self, and he was tired of moping. That’s why he finally decided to try and move on from Cas. He had to make peace that Cas would never let himself care for Dean the way he cared for him.

That’s how he found himself out with Lisa again.

He wasn’t sure she’d answer his call for dinner, after all, their relationship mostly consisted of late night romps in his bedroom when Ben was at his dad’s. She was all too excited to go out with him, though, when he made the offer, and, God, was she a thrill in bed. The only problem of sleeping with Lisa though is the guilt he feels afterwards. She was so sweet and honest, and he knew he was leading her on. 

Dinner was nice, a simple meal at the Italian place he’d never been to. Once upon a time Dean dreamed that maybe he could take Cas there, but he figured if he was getting over Cas, he might as well ruin the entire fantasy. He tried to be engaging. He loved listening to her stories about the weirdos she got at the yoga studio. Her scent, a citrusy mix of lemon and pears, was refreshing. Not at all like the rancid scents he’d been smelling all day. Still all it did was make him long for Cas’ scent. If Lisa noticed, she said nothing about it.

When dinner was over and he made the offer for her to come up to his apartment, he wasn’t at all surprised when she turned him down. Lisa said it was because she was tired and had an early class tomorrow, but Dean knew the truth. His longing was too noticeable. Several times he watched Lisa sniffle, and he knew his scent was still off-putting.

So he bid her goodnight and returned to his apartment, immediately going for the bottle of Jack that was still sitting out on the kitchen counter.

He debated even pouring it in a glass, confident drinking straight from the bottle would be much preferred anyways.

Still, Dean decided against his baser judgment and found a glass amongst his stack of dirty dishes and poured his drink, but as he did, he caught a glimpse of himself in kitchen mirror. He might have been clean shaven, but he could see the bags under his eyes, and even he could admit that was sadness in his eyes.

He was broken.

“Fuck,” he sighed before taking the first gulp of Jack, the familiar burn a welcome distraction to the inner pain he was feeling. He sat down at the kitchen table and put his head in his hands and let it rest there for a minute.

It was the frantic knocks on his front door that finally made him lift his head. He wanted to ignore it, but he couldn’t. He sighed and took another big gulp of his drink and letting it slide down his throat before getting up.

“Yeah, yeah. Hold your horses will ya?” he griped.

“Dean.”

He froze when he heard that familiar, rasp.

“Dean. Please. It’s me,” Cas said again. Dean could hear the desperation in Cas’ voice, unlike anything he’d ever heard before, even when his knot was buried deep inside him. Dean felt a tingle crawl down his body. Something was wrong.

He regained the feeling in his legs and he was at the door sooner than he realized and when he opened it, he was greeted with the rush of Cas’ scent, so sweet Dean felt his knees go week with the sudden overload. When his vision came back to him and he could truly focus on Cas, he saw a man in desperation. His hair was wild, wilder than his typical bedhead. Sweat was trickling down his brow and his shirt was practically drenched. And bright blue eyes, those blue eyes he could stare into like they were the sea itself, were blown wide.

Cas was in heat. He was in heat and he was here with Dean.

“Cas,” Dean barely managed to get out.

He homed in on the pungent scent of slick that permeated the air of his apartment, and he wanted so badly to take Cas now, claim him right here, door wide open for everyone to see him claim his omega. But the last little shreds of rational reminded him that Cas wasn’t his omega—that Cas would never be his omega because he didn’t want to be.

He backed away, but Cas took that as a silent invitation to further encroach into Dean’s space, slamming the door shut behind him. Dean just swallowed and bit his lip hard. 

“Cas… the hell are you doing here?” he asked.

“Dean… please. I can’t do it—I can’t do this with anyone else. I need you. I want you,” Cas rumbled, voice scratchy and wrecked.

“Cas, stop!” Dean growled, not the least bit ashamed that he put some of his alpha bass in his voice to stop Cas from moving. Cas obliged and stopped with a whimper—a whimper that sent the blood rushing straight from his brain to his cock that was already hard with need. He cursed before letting his fingers run through his hair frantically. “Cas—man—I gotta take you home or something. I can’t do this.”

“Dean, please. You’re the only one—I can’t trust anyone else to… touch me… to fuck me the way you do.”

Cas’ words weren’t an explanation; they were a plea. The buzz from the whiskey and the dizzying scent of Cas’ slick was making Dean’s head spin. Every second he felt his resolve crumble to pieces, and looking up at those lust-blown pupils that were pinned to him wasn’t helping at all.

“No—no. You told me we couldn’t do this. You ran the fuck out on me after you dropped that bomb,” Dean accused, letting out some of the pent-up anger he’d been holding onto for weeks. Fuck, he wanted to punch a wall. He wanted to fuck Cas senseless, but he settled for pounding his fists on the kitchen counter. Cas regarded him carefully, his eyes revealing some type of hurt. Fuck he felt vindicated but sick all at the same time. “This—fuck—this stuff you’re saying… it’s just the heat talk—”

“Fuck you, Dean!” Cas growled, and Dean could see frenzy in his eyes now, wild and angry. It was as terrifying as it was downright sexy. Cas took a step closer, and Dean felt trapped in his own apartment. “I am not a slave to my biology. I’m in heat—yes,” Cas started as he practically snarled at Dean, “but I chose to come here. To be here with you.”

Dean stepped away from him now. Cas’ words were a vortex in his brain, trying to piece together just what Cas was trying to imply.

“Cas… I can’t just be a way for you to get off. Shit—you know how I feel—I can’t just be your booty call anymore.”

When Dean looked up, Cas was almost face to face with him. He was so close that Dean could reach out to touch him—so close he could feel the inferno radiating off of him, the warmth calling out to Dean to embrace him.

“Dean… we have a lot to discuss. But I promise—I’m here because I understand that I don’t want anyone else. So sick—sick and tired of others. I can’t handle it—I tried—it felt so wrong.”

Cas sounded so pitiful, but hearing that awoke a primal pride and glee in him, that innate alpha nature inside him that spitefully exulted that no one could make Cas feel as good as he could. But then he still had those few pangs of doubt that crept in, telling him that Cas could still walk away from this denying everything he just said.

Cas seemed to pick up on that, making an impatient noise that pulled Dean’s thoughts and eyes back to him.

“Cas—if we do this. You can’t go back on this. It’s gonna fuckin’ break me if you do,” Dean uttered, his voice embarrassingly soft.

Cas cupped Dean’s face, catching his gaze. “I don’t—I can’t go back, Dean. I only want you—need you. My… mate.”

The word mate triggered something in Dean, and his mouth was on Cas’, drinking in the omega’s whines and the scent of want and need. Cas’ fingers were knotted in Dean’s hair, crushing their mouths together while humping at Dean’s thighs, telegraphing to Dean just how needy Cas was for his cock. Dean felt the tingle of his growing knot at the base of his cock in response.

“Jesus, Cas,” Dean sighed, the last little remains his rationality shredded to pieces. Dean crowded Cas against the kitchen counter, Cas gasping as he felt himself pinned down as Dean devoured him, tasting that delectable scent he’d craved for so long. Now it was his to have, to taste whenever he wanted.

“Can’t believe you drove here in your heat. Fuckin reckless, Cas. But—fuck—so desperate for my cock. For my knot.”

Cas whined as Dean bit at the skin on his neck right where his scent glands were, marking and claiming his omega.

“Need you—Dean. Only you,” he sighed.

Dean pulled at Cas’ jeans, fingers hastily undoing Cas’ belt before yanking Cas pants and underwear down to huddle around his feet. The scent of slick was overwhelming and seeing Cas’ cock bob free, red, hard, and dribbling pre-come was one of the greatest sights in Dean’s thirty-fours on this Earth. He was desperate now to taste Cas, and he sunk to his knees before taking Cas in his mouth, tasting his mate. The bitter taste of come mixed with that cinnamon-sweet scent of his slick that had his mouth watering as he sloppily sucked and licked at his cock.

Cas was quivering and whimpering, letting his fingers tangle and grasp desperately at Dean’s hair, and—fuck—if Dean didn’t love the sting. He was desperate though for Cas’ slick. He was an addict to that taste, and before he knew it he was manhandling Cas to turn around, suffering very little resistance as Cas arched his back, practically presenting to Dean.

Dean growled and surged forward, spreading Cas’ ass cheeks apart, and lapping at his slick-coated hole hungrily. It tasted sweeter than ever before. Cas in heat was now his favorite thing. Spit and slick were dribbling down Dean’s chin, staining his shirt, but he couldn’t care less. He continued to lick stripes up across Cas’ pink and puckered hole, letting his tongue dip inside, greedily choking himself on Cas’ ass and slick as he sucked more out as though the river of slick already dripping out wasn’t enough.

“Dean— _ alpha _ .  _ Please _ ,” Cas begged, squirming and pushing back, trying desperately to get Dean’s tongue in deeper, but Dean knew it wasn’t enough. It would never be. Cas needed a knot.  _ His knot. _

“Let me take care of you,” Dean promised.

He needed his bed. Rational thought told him that. Mating Cas on the kitchen was unbecoming of such a caring alpha as he. He needed to fuck, mate Cas on his bed, on their bed. Cas was his, and he was Cas’.

Dean desperately pulled at Cas’ pants trying to remove them entirely and Cas helped, kicking his shoes off along with the garments leaving him stark naked from the waist down. When Dean rose to his feet, he ripped Cas’ shirt off, ignoring the shredded fabric that fell to the ground. Cas didn’t seem to care either.  

He didn’t spare a thought before he hoisted Cas up into his arms. Cas hated when he did that. He grumbled that it made him feel helpless and submissive, all things he struggled against. Dean wanted to carry his mate around proudly before claiming him.

This time Cas didn’t fight it. Instead, Dean felt Cas’ legs wrap around his waist, his arms clinging to him tightly while burying his face into the crook of Dean’s neck. Dean felt him nuzzling it, kissing and sucking wantonly at the skin there, and the alpha side of him wanted to roar in pride, the thick alpha fog clouding his brain again.

His legs were on autopilot, driven by that inner urge, and before he knew it, they were back in his bedroom. Dean lowered Cas down, and Cas crawled further on the bed before rolling over arching his back and lifting his hips, presenting his ass, hole leaking all over Dean’s comforter and sheets.

It was the ultimate form of submission and Cas was giving this to him. Dean pounced, discarding his clothes, and freeing his cock that was hard and dribbling come. He moved to Cas who mewled in want when he felt Dean’s body flush against his. Dean snarled in celebration, his stomach flush against Cas’ ass, slick coating his skin and cock as he draped himself over his omega.

Cas was an inferno against Dean’s body and Dean loved every second of it against the cold air of his apartment.

“Dean—Dean. Need you. Fuck me.”

Wordlessly, Dean obliged his mate, slamming into him hard and fast, cock sinking deep into him with one thrust. Cas was so wet and hot around his cock. No one felt this good. Not Aaron, not Lisa. No one, but Cas. His mate. His omega.

“Feel so good, Cas,” he growled as he continued to thrust relentlessly into Cas’ tight heat, the sounds of slick-covered skin and Cas begging and panting filling the room. “ _ Fuck _ —so good. So tight for me. My mate. Fucking beautiful mate.”

“Yours… only yours, Dean. My alpha,” Cas promised, honeyed words spoken between screams and wails as Dean plowed into him.

Cas’ words drove Dean in deeper and Cas sucked him in greedily, his ass a vice-grip around Dean’s cock as he desperately screamed to be filled. Dean wanted to do just that.

“Gonna fill you, Cas. Fuck you full of my come.  _ Mine. _ ” He’d fill Cas in the way only he could, his ass full of his come, of his scent. He and Cas would smell only like each other. No one else ever again.

“Yes, alpha, please! Yours!” Cas screamed, craning his neck as if to howl his cries to the world.

Dean’s knot was growing, thick and aching as it strained against the tight confines of Cas ass, pulling at Cas’ rim. Cas was whimpering now, trying hard to lock Dean’s cock inside him, pushing back against Dean, trying to get Dean’s cock deeper, as if it were even possible. Dean barely managed to let his hand travel down to Cas’ weeping cock, tugging just a few times before Cas was crying out, coming all over Dean’s bed, his hole squeezing Dean so tight Dean felt like he might blackout.

“Dean… Dean. I need—I need your knot,” Cas cried, his voice now reduced to sobs and whines, his body quivering as he came down from his orgasm.

Dean didn’t think before he sunk his teeth into Cas’ skin, making Cas howl in shock and Dean saw stars, a white hot flame extending throughout his entire body as his knot locked inside Cas and he came, cock filling Cas to the brim with his seed—breeding him like he knew only he could do. He never felt this way before. This was truly what it felt like to mate someone. To mate his omega.

“Yes… yes. Fill me, Dean. Mate—alpha. Love you,” Cas cried, pressing himself back against Dean’s chest desperately wanting more. Dean hardly had time to process the fact that Cas uttered the word love towards him for the first time ever.

Instead, he was proud. Cas was his omega. He had claimed him, and he dared anyone to touch Cas this way again. Dean would destroy them.

He continued to rut against Cas, letting his cock pump Cas full, come and slick still leaking out around his knot, making a mess of both of their bodies and Dean’s bed. It smelled fucking perfect.

Cas’ breathing returned Dean to his senses a little, enough that Dean was able to slowly roll them on their sides, uncaring of the mess that their bodies lied in. Cas pressed as far back into Dean as he could get and Dean made sure Cas was comfortably tucked underneath his arm, warding him away from the non-existent threats in his bedroom.

“Mine,” Dean muttered in Cas’ ear, licking at his claiming bite on Cas’ neck, making his omega shudder against his body.

“Yours,” Cas quietly assured.

Their bodies were wet with sweat, slick, and come. They’d be tied together like this for at least thirty minutes, if not longer. Dean wasn’t sure what it was liking to knot your mate in heat, but fuck, he never wanted to give this feeling up. He loved Cas and Cas loved him. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, the scent of his mate on his nose, and the promise that Cas would be there tomorrow on his mind.


	8. Chapter 8

Castiel was learning that Dean did a very poor job of keeping food stocked in his apartment. If anyone came in now, they’d assume Dean survived off bread, beef jerky, coffee, and copious amounts of alcohol. It was a miracle alone that there was enough for him to make a small breakfast of eggs and sausage, though not much of a miracle since cooking was very low on his list of things he did well.

It had been easy to sneak out of Dean’s bed, quietly sliding his way over to Dean’s bathroom to clean himself up before finding a pair of Dean’s boxers to put on and a t-shirt that fit him perfectly, an old band shirt that Dean seemed to have tons of. They smelled of Dean, and it brought him comfort.

His stomach growled loudly in protest at the lack of food he’d consumed. Though he had a break in his heat, it still took a hell of a lot out of him last night, and that meant he needed to eat and fast before the next flare up. He considered pestering Dean to get them something or venture out himself to find something, but it felt wrong sending Dean out to get food, and he wasn’t sure it was smart or safe for him to drive in his condition.

There was also that small amount of doubt in his mind at what he was supposed to do as Dean’s omega. Omegas were expected to cook, or that’s what he thought. But he could barely make toast without burning it. Coffee was about the only thing he made well. But for Dean he would at least try since he was his alpha now.

It was still such a weird thing to think about. Dean was his alpha.

Castiel was happy that he wasn’t hiding his feelings for Dean anymore, even if it took a spontaneous explosion of hormones to finally coax it out of him. But that didn’t hide or change the fact that Dean had just barreled through several years’ worth of hesitation. He and Dean—they had a lot to discuss when Dean awoke.

As he put the sausage on the skillet he’d pulled from Dean’s cabinet, hardly used if the dust on it was anything to go by, the sizzle nearly frightened him, louder and more explosive than he’d anticipated. It quickly calmed down, but suddenly he remembered that he didn’t have a spatula and he went scurrying to find one while the sausage continued to sizzle.

He finally found the spatula, but by the time he returned to the sausage, Castiel could smell burning meat and see smoke rising. He wanted to toss the whole thing out of the window before Dean woke up. Castiel was in way over his head.

Because he was so preoccupied with the burning sausage, he didn’t hear Dean walk in whistling loud enough that it pulled his attention away from the burning sausage in front of him.

“Jesus, Cas! You tryin’ to burn my place down?” Dean exclaimed as he quickly made his way to Castiel’s side.

Castiel wordlessly moved out of the way and let Dean take control of the situation, watching as Dean shut the heat off and took the spatula from him, still gentle even though he was clearly anxious. He probably would’ve let the entire place burn after getting a glimpse of Dean, naked except for a pair of boxers, his body glowing in the dusty morning light. Castiel knew this wasn’t the heat talking though. This view of Dean, this utter fascination with his entire being was Castiel with his guard completely down.

After a few seconds of inspecting the meat, blackened on the bottom from what Castiel could see, Dean grinned before discarding the charred food into the trash and throwing the skillet in the sink.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I was trying to fix us sausage and eggs, however, I’m afraid that cooking is—not exactly one of my strong points,” he apologized.

Dean laughed a little before washing out the charred remnants in the sink. “Yeah, I kinda noticed that.” Once the skillet was cleaned out and dried, Dean stuck it back on the stove. “I’ll whip us up something to eat. You just sit and take it easy.”

It sounded almost like a command, and Castiel knew if Dean commanded him to just about anything right now his body would desperately want to react, but he tried to push that subservient part of him away. They hadn’t discussed last night and their future, so submission to Dean was not something he was ready for.

“I want to help somehow at least,” Castiel argued.

Dean raised an eyebrow while regarding him carefully. “Cas, you’re in heat. Just take it easy.” Castiel stood looking at Dean, hoping that the stern frown would get through to him. Dean sighed and shook his head before turning to the stove. “Alright, fine. You wanna help? Grab me another skillet and a bowl and crack the eggs.” 

Castiel grinned and fished out the skillet and bowl from the same cabinet as before and quietly went to work on cracking the last of Dean’s eggs, proud that only a few tiny shells had found their way in there. They were quiet, but it was a comfortable silence especially since he’d never stayed this long with Dean, definitely not long enough for breakfast.

“You don’t cook much do you?” Dean asked, finally piercing the silence with that deep, still-sleepy voice of his.

Castiel looked away, feeling a tiny bit of shame for some unknown reason. “No, I don’t. It’s something I never took an interest in or took the time to learn.” The ‘because it’s a thing omegas do and I’m not like those omegas’ went without saying.

Dean didn’t seem to judge him for it and just shrugged as he whisked the eggs together. “We gotta get you at least competent in the kitchen before you burn my place down next time.” Dean stopped though and Castiel could sense the spike in his scent, a strange scent that he could identify as worry or apprehension. It was solidified when Dean turned to him with a dismayed expression in his face. “I mean—if that’s something you want to learn that is. I—don—I don’t want you to feel like you have to or anything. I’m totally fine doing all the—”

“Dean, it’s fine,” Castiel stopped him. Dean was just as scared about this whole mating thing as he was if he was trying his hardest not to offend him over something as small as cooking. “I should really take the time to learn a bit in the kitchen.”

“So, why’d you try to cook breakfast if you knew you weren’t a good cook?” Dean inquired.

Castiel sighed and shrugged a little. “I thought that might be something you like. I figured it was also the easiest way to say thank you for last night.”

“What, for helping you through your heat?” Dean said slightly surprised as he pulled the sausage off the skillet. “Cause Cas, if I’m being honest—that wasn’t really me doing you a favor either.”

Castiel shook his head. “We can talk over breakfast.”

Dean just nodded before to his coffee machine. “Wanna get us some coffee started? I figure you could do that without burning my place down.”

Castiel growled, but Dean returned it with a shit-eating grin, and Castiel couldn’t help but smile back wryly before starting on the coffee, easily working Dean’s Keurig machine until two fresh mugs were ready for them.

“We make a pretty good team in the kitchen. I do all the heavy lifting and you play back-up,” Dean said, filling the silence as he continued to scramble the eggs. 

Castiel laughed while setting his and Dean’s mugs down on the table. “I don’t enjoy playing back-up to anyone. Now I feel obligated to learn how to cook so I can make you play back-up next time.”

“Well, if you’re looking for a few pointers, I know this great guy. Hella awesome alpha who makes a mean burger that can give you some tips.”

“If you find him, let him know I’m interested.” Castiel laughed as Dean blew raspberries at him and teasingly rolled his eyes. “Are we five years old?”

“Bite me, Cas.”

Dean scooped the eggs and sausage onto two plates he pulled out of his top cabinets and brought them over to the table. He set one in front of Castiel and the other in front of himself as he sat down across from Castiel.

“Dig in. I can only imagine you’re probably starving after last night,” Dean said.

Castiel didn’t need a mirror to know he was flushed from the neck down at the mere thought of last night. He appeased the compulsion to rub at his neck, but his fingers grazed over the raw skin where Dean had sunk his teeth into him, claiming him. As he fingers traced over the mark, he shuddered at the thought that Dean had claimed him not once, but twice now.

“You alright?” Dean asked, breaking him free of his focus on his claiming mark.

“Oh—yes. I’m fine.” Castiel dug into his breakfast, completely amazed by how well Dean had managed to make a simple breakfast of sausage and scrambled eggs taste. He was embarrassed at how quickly he’d scarfed the food down, but then he remembered being in heat was the equivalent of having a bottomless pit for a stomach. He needed the calories anyways.

“You sure? Cause you know—last night was pretty intense.”

Castiel laughed quietly to himself. “That’s an understatement.”

When Castiel looked up at Dean, he could sense something was off. Dean had only taken a few bites of his food, and was toying with his eggs, something lingering on the tip of his tongue.

“I gotta ask, Cas, how in the hell did you end up in heat? I thought you were on all those medications to—you know…”

“Break the mating bond?” Castiel finished for him. Dean didn’t so much flinch as he did pointedly looked elsewhere, trying hard to avoid the near snarl that threatened to escape his lips at the mere mention of Castiel’s previous intentions. “My doctor told me that our mating bond could still potentially render my medications ineffective. My assumption is that when we had sex while you were in rut, it triggered my heat.”

“So, I literally fucked you into your heat?” Dean asked, and Castiel could see the wonder and near satisfaction in his expression.

“That would seem to be the case.” Castiel sighed before trying to hide the embarrassment he was feeling inside. “I haven’t been in heat in years, and being in it now is… difficult to say the least.”

“Shit. Yeah—I—uh—can’t imagine how that must feel for you,” Dean said, laughing awkwardly to try and cover whatever mix of emotions he was no doubt feeling. Castiel hummed in agreement.

“I’m only grateful that I’ve received my birth control shots regularly, or last night and this morning could have gone very differently.”

Dean’s eyes went wide, and Castiel had to stifle his laugh because it was no laughing matter, especially if last night had resulted in pregnancy. It wasn’t like he or Dean were much in the mindset to even think about the fact that him in heat would up his chances of pregnancy. And Dean couldn’t deny he wanted kids because Cas knew he did. _Maybe_ _one day_. He shuddered at the thought of them right now.

Silence filled the space between them, and neither of them seeming to know what to say next.

There was a giant elephant in the room, and Castiel hadn’t quite figured out how to broach the topic. This was new to him. Dean seemed to be struggling too, something lingering on the tip of his tongue but just not managing to get out.

Maybe that’s where he could start in trying to dissect this weird, new relationship in their story.

“How are you feeling, Dean?”

Dean looked up and put on his best feigned smile, but Castiel could see right through it.

“Me? I’m fan-freaking-tastic. Breakfast was amazing, if I do say so myself.” Dean’s feigned smile started to crack despite his jovial joke, and Castiel could see the insecurity start to show through that bright, freckled face.

“How are you really?” Castiel asked, regarding him with a sympathetic look. “It can’t be easy… thinking about what’s transpired between us these last few weeks, and what happened last night.”

Dean groaned. “Shit—Cas—I don’t know,” he finally said aloud. Dean looked around the room, frustration filling those candy-green eyes of his. “It’s just… it’s nice having you here.”

Castiel could scent apprehension on Dean. It was an unwelcome shift from Dean’s usual alpha scent that been so calming to Castiel from the moment he’d stepped into Dean’s apartment.

“Dean… about last night.”

Saying that only seemed to worsen Dean’s scent, and Dean’s face was nearly frozen in a scowl as if preparing for that horrible news that Castiel always gave him after they had sex. Castiel, though, knew he was far beyond feeding Dean excuses on why he couldn’t stay.

“Look, Cas. I told you last night, I can’t just let you say this didn’t mean anything,” Dean finally blurted out. “I’m so far gone on you, Cas, that I’m ruined for other people. I mean it, no one else drives me fucking crazy the way you do. And in case you couldn’t tell, I’m kinda freaking the hell out that we’re mated and I don’t even know how the hell you feel about me.”

Castiel glanced sympathetically at Dean. He knew how hard that must have been for Dean to admit. It was still characteristic for alphas to not be open with their emotions, and of what he knew about Dean, he was good at bottling things up until they boiled over.

“You’re in luck then. I don’t plan on going anywhere. At least not for a while, until my heat runs its course.”

“And what about after,” Dean quickly followed up.

Castiel did his best to offer a reassuring smile to him. “Dean, I’m not going anywhere.” That seemed to bring immediate relief to Dean if the tiny uptick at the corner of his lips. “You and I have much to discuss, but,” he thought long and hard trying to formulate the right words to say but eventually just opened his mouth and spoke, “I don’t want to pretend anymore that I can be with any other alpha but you. I learned that the hard way last night.”

Dean’s expression darkened, and Castiel couldn’t help but find himself amused by Dean’s possessiveness. It was also doing other things to him, and suddenly he felt he was aware of how hot it was in the kitchen.

“You were with another alpha?” Dean questioned, voice low and even deeper than usual. It sent a shiver down Castiel’s spine.

“It didn’t—work,” Castiel stammered as his skin felt uncomfortable against fabric of Dean’s shirt. “He wasn’t you. I realized that it’s only you I need.”

He could tell his heat was flaring up again, the first rivulets of slick trickling out, no doubt staining Dean’s underwear. Dean though was like a shark sniffing blood in the water, and Castiel watched Dean lick his lips in anticipation.

“Cas, c’mere,” Dean said, voice a firm order. There was still part of him that refused to take orders from someone that wasn’t his supervisor, but it was currently at war with the other half of his brain that would kill for his mate.  _ For Dean _ . “I just wanna take care of you, Cas. Come here and let me take care of you,” he repeated, softer this time.

Castiel swallowed and let himself move from his chair and he found himself falling into Dean’s arms as the alpha stood to catch him. Dean’s fingers on his arms was a cooling relief on his burning skin. He needed Dean. His stomach hungered, but for something different now.

He hated this, but he also loved it. He still had so many walls he had to finish breaking down, but for right now he could be comfortable letting his natural urges give him to Dean in a way he couldn’t do on his own—just yet.

“Dean—I’m sorry,” he murmured into Dean’s neck.

“Nothing to be sorry about.”

Cas shook his head. “No. This—this neediness, it’s… unbecoming. I can’t stand it. I can’t imagine you like seeing me like this.”

“You kidding me?” Dean quickly interjected. “Cas, I like you exactly like you are all the time. I don’t give a rat’s ass if you’re all business or if you’re in heat and needy. I love it all.”

Another surge of his heat coursed through him and he could feel more beads of slick trickling down his leg. He buried his face into the crook of Dean’s neck. He needed Dean. His scent, his touch, his knot.

“I gotcha, Cas.” Dean pulled him over to the couch in his living room, spacious and comfortable looking as he pushed Cas down on it, sinking into the plush cushions. Dean carefully eased his underwear off, the urgency of last night noticeably absent.

Castiel watched as Dean removed his boxers, leaving him stark naked, cock already hard and leaking again. Castiel felt hot, that unnatural warmth that signaled another oncoming of his heat, and he squirmed, trying to inch his way closer to Dean for the relief that his knot would bring him.

“Please, Dean. I need you.”

Dean leaned over him, capturing Castiel’s mouth in a slow but deep kiss, that alpha scent filling his lungs as he breathed him in. He felt Dean’s cock rub against him, slick leaking out more in response. He needed Dean to fill him. This heat was unbearable and he wanted Dean and only Dean.

“You feel so good. Such a perfect omega,” Dean praised as he pulled his lips from Castiel’s.

Cas whined at the praise, letting his defenses down to truly give in again to his omega desires as Dean continued to tease him endlessly with his cock rubbing against his hole.

“Please,” Castiel begged.

“Tell me what you need,” Dean muttered.

Castiel didn’t hesitate in the slightest before whispering, “I need you.”

Dean surged forward and kissed Cas again, harder, and Castiel could taste the coffee on his breath, a strong, bitter taste meshing with that fresh alpha scent. It had his cock hard and leaking against his stomach.

Still, despite the slowness of the morning, Dean was impatient, Castiel feeling two long and thick fingers spreading him open. His heat was so strong now he was unbothered by the burn and sting from last night. Thank god his body’s hormones inhibited that pain from Dean knotting him.

“More,” Castiel whined, arching his back trying to get Dean’s fingers in deeper. “Dean. More. Now.”

Dean shushed him and pulled his fingers free from Cas. “Turn around.” 

Castiel wasn’t at all bothered by how quickly he complied with his Dean’s command, getting on his knees in an instant. Rather than shame or anger at being bossed around, he felt only an insatiable need to be filled by his alpha—to please his alpha. 

When Dean entered him, he felt himself shake as Dean’s cock pushed through the ring of muscle. Castiel’s cock hung hard and nearly painful from his need to come just from Dean’s cock alone, but Dean covered Castiel’s hands with his own, a small show of comfort as Dean thrust into him. He met each of Dean’s thrusts with aborted pushes of his own, his body craving that relief that only Dean’s knot could bring him.

His brain was a jumbled mess. He could barely make out Dean’s grunts and praises in his ear as the alpha draped himself over his body, and he could hardly muster any sympathy for the slick that was staining Dean’s couch, but Dean didn’t seem bothered in the slightest by that either.

Instead, he let himself go. He let Dean take control, and he did. Dean fucked him tirelessly as if he was literally fucking the heat out of his body while lapping and biting at his neck. Dean’s scent permeated the air.

That familiar tingle in his thighs signaling his orgasm came swiftly and without a cry he came come spilling all over the couch as his cock swung back and forth with Dean’s thrusts.

Dean growled, and Cas felt Dean’s nails dig into the flesh of his side as he fucked him harder, the sound of slapping skin filling the room. Castiel could sense it. Dean was losing control. It wasn’t long before he felt Dean’s knot catch on his rim, the sting so good as Dean futilely tried to pull his cock free only to slam it back in deeper.

“Cas. Cas. Fuck,” Dean growled before Castiel could feel that now-familiar wet warmth of Dean coming inside him.

He clenched harder. He wanted everything Dean could give him. Dean’s sweaty body was still covering his own, and he felt his knees wobble, so tired and spent and blissed out that he just wanted to collapse. Dean read him well, and helped ease him down, unconcerned that they were now laying in his come. Their gasps and pants filled the room, and Dean was nosing him, his face buried in his neck. He didn’t at all feel ashamed at the purring sounds coming from him as Dean tickled his neck there.

“Feeling better now?” Dean asked.

“Much. Just very tired.” For how tired he was, his brain was moving a mile a minute. It wanted Dean. It wanted him so badly. Dean had clearly fucked him too well. God, he both loved and hated his biological programming.

“Well hey, we got all day. I can’t say I’d complain about a few extra hours of sleep.”

It wasn’t a direct command, but his body relaxed further at Dean’s suggestion of a nap. He wouldn’t mind one either. Just something to shut his brain down for a little while. This was only the beginning of his heat, so he figured a little sleep before the next round wouldn’t hurt.

With Dean’s body wrapped tight around his and the soft sounds of Dean’s even breathing in his ear, he let his eyes close and darkness overtake him. 

______________________________________________

 

If there was one thing Castiel hated, it was phone calls, especially ones of the weekend. Somewhere in Dean’s apartment he heard his cell phone blaring. He wasn’t aware how long he and Dean had been asleep, but he felt slightly refreshed even with the mating pheromones already raring up for another round.

It took a few moments to regain his clarity, but his eyes snapped open when he recognized the obnoxious tone that signaled Gabriel calling.

He nearly threw himself off the couch to get his phone but was met with a loud curse from Dean who jumped and pinned him down. 

“Jesus-fucking-Christ, Cas! We’re still fucking knotted!” Dean shouted.

Castiel swallowed realizing how much pain Dean was probably in tugging on his knot like that. If it weren’t for the pain-blocking hormones inhibiting him from feeling pain, especially down there, then he imagined he’d have been in just as much pain as Dean.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” he hastily apologized.

Dean seemed to calm down after a few moments, and his phone was done ringing by then, and he was confident if he didn’t call Gabriel back soon, his older brother would not react well.

“The hell had you jumping up like that?” Dean asked as his breathing returned to normal.

“It was my brother, Gabriel. He’s in town, and is probably checking to make sure I’m still alive.” Castiel paused realizing what had happened last night at the bar.

“What’s wrong, Cas?” Dean asked, picking up on the shame he was beginning to feel.

“I just realized that I may have inadvertently… kicked Gabriel out of my apartment last night.”

It was silent for a moment, but then Castiel heard Dean laughing and Castiel didn’t need to turn around—not that he could at the moment—to imagine the amusement on Dean’s face.

“I can’t believe you sexiled your own brother,” Dean laughed.

“It wasn’t intentional, and I don’t enjoy you making light of my current situation,” Castiel answered, though he was sure Dean could hear the amusement in his voice.

“Hey not making fun of you. Well… not completely.”

“You’re an assbutt, you know that?”

Dean leaned over, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “But I’m your assbutt now.”

And that was true. Dean was his and he was Dean’s. It might take a minute to get used to that, but it wasn’t sounding so bad at the moment.

“As much as I would like to sit here and cuddle all day, if I don’t return Gabriel’s call, he may panic and call the police, and I would rather avoid that.”

Dean groaned behind him. “You really mean to tell me, you’re gonna make me hobble over to your phone with my dick stuck in your ass?”

It sounded absolutely ridiculous when Dean said it out loud, but Gabriel was unpredictable, and given his well-known distaste for mating, it wouldn’t be a surprise if Gabriel panicked and called the police.

“It’s either that, or the police potentially searching your house.”

“Jesus.” Dean sighed, but Castiel could tell he had given up. He was learning just how much power he had over Dean when it came to getting what he wanted. These were things he would have to keep in mind later on. “Alright. Get up. But don’t move too fast!”

Castiel slowly rolled forward, Dean practically glued to his backside to prevent another mishap. It took a bit of finagling and fidgeting, but eventually he and Dean were both on their feet, though Castiel was now very much aware of Dean’s knot inside him still. Now that he wasn’t huddled next to the furnace that was Dean Winchester, he could feel how sticky and sweaty his skin was. He only prayed his next flare up didn’t come for a while because a shower would be great.

“One step at a time?” Castiel suggested.

He didn’t need to look back to sense the eye roll Dean did. “Yeah. That’s fine.”

And that’s how they both slowly marched their way across Dean’s apartment, tied together by Dean’s knot, Dean grumbling and cursing under his breath as he and Cas took one step in unison all the way to his bedroom. If this was the worst part of being mated to Dean Winchester than Castiel figured he was doing pretty well right now.

They found his phone stashed away in his pants along with his keys, wallet, and everything. When he pulled his phone out he saw that Gabriel had messaged him several times before he’d caved in and called.

Gabriel: Did you get some good dick last night?

Gabriel: You better be ignoring me cause your ass got heatfucked into sleep

Gabriel: Alright asshole. You better call me or I’m coming to find you.

Gabriel: Cassie. I swear on all that is Dean Winchester you better answer me back or I’m going to call you and hopefully interrupt you getting it on.

That was the last message before Gabriel had called him.

Dean snorted behind him.

“Your brother knows about me?” Dean asked amused.

Castiel tried to shield his phone away from Dean, but to no avail as Dean had read the entire conversation over his shoulder.

“I may have mentioned your name once or twice. That was all,” Castiel tried to deflect.

Dean chuckled and Castiel groaned.

“Hey. No need to be mad. I think it’s kinda cute your brother knows about me. Sammy knows about you too, if it’s any consolation.”

Castiel didn’t want to show just how much that made him feel, thinking about how badly Dean wanted him that his family already knew about him too. He was practically preening at the thought of Dean showing him off as his mate. It was such a foreign sense of pride and excitement that he wasn’t sure how to process it yet. 

“I’m about to call him, so can I trust you’ll behave?”

Dean answered by leaning his head down on Cas’ shoulder, kissing him softly on the underside of his neck, and Cas let his eyes close relaxing into the feel of Dean’s lips on him. The cuddly bastard was really making him like all this touching now. 

“I make no promises.”

Knowing that was the best he was going to get from Dean, he dialed Gabriel’s number, consciously aware now of the grin spreading wide across his face.

“Cassie! You asshole!” Gabriel shouted into the phone after only two rings, making Castiel wince. “I was worried sick about you!”

“My apologies, Gabriel. I was… asleep.”

“Asleep my ass! I go to your apartment expecting my brother to be locked away in his bedroom, and to my utter horror I find that you and your car are just—poof—gone. Did your heat pheromones fuck you up that bad that you didn’t think I’d be calling your ass?”

Castiel sighed. He wasn’t sure if Gabriel was ever going to stop yelling at him, nor did he know how mad his brother truly was.

“I figured you would know if I wasn’t home that I was out with someone.”

“Wrong answer, bucko. You think I’m gonna trust your ass when you’re in heat, probably with some random alpha’s knot? Cause as much as I love good sex, that does not erase my need to defend my baby bro’s honor from some knothead.”

“You don’t need to worry, Gabriel. I am with someone I trust.”

Gabriel went silent, and that worried Castiel. Gabriel being silent was never a good sign. That usually meant he was thinking.

“Oh shit,” his older brother finally muttered. “Shit, you’re with Dean aren’t you?”

Castiel froze because he wasn’t sure how to reply. He hadn’t quite broached the topic of telling his own brothers and friends about mating with Dean. Now it seemed he wouldn’t have much time to reflect on that.

“I—am.”

Gabriel boisterously whooped into the phone and Castiel nearly dropped it on the floor, causing his heart to burst out of his chest. There was a lot of work he got done from his phone and he’d have been horrified to be without even for a day.

“About fucking time! I knew you had it in you!” Castiel lowered his head into his hand while Dean leaned over him reassuringly. “Where is the bastard? I wanna congratulate him for finally getting through that thick skull of yours.”

“He’s indisposed at the moment. And Gabriel before you get any crazy ideas—”

“Oh just take the compliment, dum-dum. You locked down that alpha you’ve been craving, and I’m happy for you. And now you can finally see for yourself that you can be a workaholic and still get some too.”

Castiel sighed and shook his head, but he deep down he was… happy.

“Thank you, Gabriel.”

“Not a problem. Now put him on the phone. I have some very choice words of wisdom to give the lucky man,” Gabriel commanded.

“Gabriel that’s hardly necessary.”

“Cassie, I’m currently sitting in your apartment with the ability to go rummaging through your stuff with no one to stop me. Either you put Dean on the phone, or I’m going to start randomly calling every number I find in this house until I get him.” Gabriel’s threat, though childish, was very real.

“You wouldn’t,” Castiel dared.

“Try me, baby bro.”

Castiel sighed, knowing full well that Gabriel rarely, if ever, made threats he wasn’t willing to act upon.

Wordlessly, he held the phone out behind him for Dean to take.

“Gabriel would like to speak to you.”

“Me? Why?” Dean said puzzled.

“Dean, just take it, please.”

Being knotted to Dean, he couldn’t turn back to see Dean’s expression, so when Dean took the phone and started talking to Gabriel, he was left to discern their conversation from the few grunts and words Dean managed to get in. It was no surprise that Gabriel was dominating the conversation.

Still, even with Gabriel’s threat, his older brother’s reaction put him at ease. Gabriel was always in his corner. He was one of the few who treated him normally, and not like the pampered omega son from a well-to-do family. If Gabriel was happy for him, then that meant he’d done something right.

“It was—uh—good talking to you too,” Dean stammered.

When Dean hung up the phone, he handed back the phone which Castiel discarded on Dean’s bed.

“Well that was something. Your brother—uh—wants us all to go to lunch or dinner soon and won’t take no for an answer. So, we got that to look forward to,” Dean said.

“That doesn’t surprise me. Gabriel is very pushy like that. I’m almost convinced he’ll show up unannounced again.”

“I’m—uh—hoping that’ll go better than last time. He had no problem reminding me about our first encounter.”

Castiel wasn’t scared though. Everyone around him wanted him to have a mate. He was the only one so ardently against it. But he hoped what Gabriel said was true. He wanted his old life still. He was an accountant and a damn good one. But this thing with Dean—this future he could have with someone else—Castiel wanted that too.

“You should relax you know,” Dean quietly suggested. “Cas, we got a lot of time to figure this out. And your brother, he was real happy for ya. Told me to make sure you don’t act like a dum-dum and back out of this. Didn’t at all seem concerned that you were in heat.”

Castiel chuckled, hearing Gabriel’s voice in his head saying those exact words.  

“Consider it a sign that he approves of you.” He paused though and took in another deep breath, filling his lungs with Dean’s scent as a way to re-center himself. Dean seemed to be doing the same, burying his nose into the crook of his neck and breathing him in shamelessly.

“I’m not worried, Dean.” Castiel was wishing Dean’s knot would go down so they could have this conversation face to face. “This feeling is simply… different is all. I like it, but—”

“You’re still processing.”

“That is… a good way to put it,” Castiel answered.

“Cas, look. You’re in heat. All these feelings and shit you’re going through, you don’t have to have it all figured out now. Let’s just relax and go with the flow, aight?”

Relax was a very difficult word given that his body was currently battling to get as much alpha cock inside him as possible, but he understood Dean’s sentiment.

His stomach growling provided a quick segue into their next issue—Dean’s lack of food.

“I’m thinking takeout for lunch?”

“Only if you promise to wait until your knot is no longer in my ass,” Castiel said.

“What, you don’t wanna make a statement to the delivery guy that you locked down this handsome alpha?”

“Dean,” Castiel admonished.

Dean returned his chastising with another neck kiss.

“How about we watch something on TV before lunch? There’s some good Western’s on demand.”

Castiel cringed at the thought of watching cowboy movies for even an hour.

“We’re going to have to work on your taste in movies if you expect me to be your mate,” he teased.

“I’m gonna have to rethink this whole mating thing if you’re making me pick between you or TV Westerns, Cas,” Dean teased with a laugh.

Even though Castiel could sense his body temperature rising, he was focused on Dean: his voice, his laugh, his body pressed so close to him. Even through his own faults, and his apprehension at what the future held with this whole mating thing, Dean found a way to reassure him and put him at ease.

And Dean was right. He had time.  _ They  _ had time. 

For now, he didn’t have to think about his status at work, with his family, in the world. For now he was content to just be Castiel Novak, omega mate to Dean Winchester, and that was enough. 


	9. Chapter 9

Any fears that things would go back to the way they were once Cas’ heat was over had all been pushed out of Dean’s head the next morning.

Cas’ heat had still been in full force, and when they awoke the next morning, still as sticky, sweaty, and gross as the day before, Cas, in his moment of clarity, had called his doctor, a friend apparently, who decided Cas would be out until Wednesday at the earliest. Once that was out of the way Cas had returned to all business.

That’s how Dean found himself running around town, picking up the various things Cas demanded he needed to ride out his heat. Dean had been reluctant to leave him given Cas’ flare ups came at completely irregular intervals, but Cas insisted he was fine, especially when they’d fucked first thing when they woke up.

_ “Why do you need all these clothes if you’re gonna be naked the entire time?” Dean argued over the phone as he rummaged through Cas’ closet. _

_ “Because I don’t plan on sending emails to my boss with your knot in my ass,” Cas pushed back, clearly not addressing the fact that his heat was probably only going to last three more days. _

_ “Your boss won’t even know!” _

_ “Dean!” _

He knew he was doomed though the second Cas had turned to him with those big blue eyes. Dean was learning quickly that Cas was the real dominant in this relationship, and he was okay with that.

That’s how his poor Impala ended up weighed down with about a month’s worth of groceries and two weeks’ worth of Cas’ clothes filling both her trunk and backseat. Upfront with him was Cas’ laptop that he demanded Dean bring him. Dean was adamantly against Cas working during his heat, but he also should’ve known better than to go against Cas when he was like this.

Still, there was some small sense of pride coursing through him, especially when he opened his apartment door, to see Cas comfortably draped across his couch, bundled in his sweatshirt and boxers like he’d been living here for years.

“About time you came back,” Cas grumbled, getting up and reaching to take for grocery bags in Dean’s hands.

Dean snatched the bags away from him though, moving to set them down by the refrigerator.

“You’re in heat. Just relax and let me handle it.”

Cas tilted his head and gave Dean that chilling, irritated look that had Dean gulping.

“I am in heat, Dean. I’m not a helpless little animal that needs coddling. I want your dick, not your pity,” Cas bit back. Dean froze as Cas took the grocery bags Dean had set down and started riffling through them and pulling things out. “You bring the groceries in and I’ll put them away.”

Cas being demanding like this had Dean hornier than he admittedly should be. It was hard, though, for him to not get into Cas when he was in boss mode like this. It just solidified how much he loved his Cas for who he was and not what society told him he should be.

“Alright, Cas, you win.”

So that’s how the next several minutes went, Dean unloading everything from the impala while Cas was moving around his kitchen, putting things away without stopping. Several times Dean just stopped and watched Cas work, a small grin spreading on his face while Cas was working too hard to even notice.

Eventually, he’d brought up the last of stuff while Cas had nearly finished putting everything away, the only things remaining were the plastic bags.

“Damn, that was quick,” he noted as he shut the door behind him and dropping the duffel bag full of Cas’ clothes on the floor before joining Cas in the kitchen.

“Your organizational skills left much to be desired, so I rearranged a few things.”

Dean shrugged. Things tended to just end up wherever most times, so Cas rearranging things was no loss to him. Instead, Dean succumbed to the urge to touch Cas, and wrapped his arms around Cas’ waist, leaning into him.

“You really like to cuddle, don’t you,” Cas said, leaning back into Dean’s chest despite the light teasing in his tone.

“You feel and smell nice. Sue me,” Dean answered, burying his face in Cas’ neck. Even without the scent of Cas’ pheromones signaling the next flare up of his heat, Cas smelled of home—of them.

“Did you drop your papers off?”

“Yes, Cas,” Dean huffed. “Got my heat leave papers dropped off to HR. Your doc moves quick, by the way.”

“Hannah is very dependable. It’s why I’ve gone to her all these years. What about my laptop? Did anyone catch you in my cubicle getting it?”

“Yeah, just this one guy. Total douchebag.”

Cas hummed. “My guess is Bartholomew.”

“Whoever he is, I don’t like him. Wasn’t exactly keen on me taking your laptop.”

Cas was hot in Dean’s embrace, his skin a small furnace against Dean’s arms. Dean sniffed, smelling Cas’ ripe scent right underneath his nostrils. He took in lungfuls of it, the scent so strong he could taste it. He wasn’t sure how Cas expected them to work when Cas in heat had him ready to strip down and knot at the drop of a dime.

“Dean,” Cas said breathily, his tone alerting Dean to his needs.

“Yeah, Cas, I can tell.”

Dean couldn’t help himself from nosing at Cas’ neck now, licking and sucking at the scent glands again, his go to place to bury his face when he couldn’t bury it in other places.

Cas was mumbling incoherently and groaning, and Dean could smell the pungent scent of slick again. He never got sick of it.

“Bed or couch?” Dean offered.

“Bed. And no knotting this time. We’ve got work to do. But when we finish we’re first going to eat before starting on this project,” Cas declared, the whimpers in between his words betraying his seriousness. Dean snorted, earning him a swift rebuking growl from Cas. “I mean it, Dean.”

“Fine. I think that’s doable since I can’t convince you to take the day off.”

“Good. Bedroom. Now.”

Dean obliged, all but yanking Cas back into his bedroom where they discarded their clothes before Cas pushed Dean down on the bed. God did he love when Cas took charge.

This was becoming familiar in all the best ways. He had memorized the outline of Cas’ muscles, every line on his chest, the curve of his lips when he hungered for Dean like this, the weight of Cas on top of him.

Cas wasted no time, lining Dean’s already hard cock with his slick hole and sinking down on it all the way.

All Dean had to do was lie back and let Cas take control. Dean couldn’t imagine what being an omega was like for Cas, to live in a world where he seemed to lack control. That’s why he loved how Cas disregarded those rules and took it anyways. He was only glad he could relinquish it to him.

It didn’t take long for Cas to ride him to orgasm and Dean quickly tightened his grip around the base of his cock, doing his best to stave off his knot. Cas wasn’t making it easy, rising and falling on Dean’s cock while making all sorts of pretty sounds that had Dean wanting to knot so bad.

“Dean. Dean,” Cas cried out before he came, spurts of come landing on Dean’s chest. Dean’s hand wrapped around his cock was coated in Cas’ slick, and Dean had to resist that strong pull to lick his hand clean, lest he end up knotting Cas anyways.

“Cas. Cas, you gotta slow down.”

Cas was shaky and foggy from his orgasm and he naturally slowed on his own, resting his forehead against Dean’s while lettings Dean’s cock slip free. Dean used the opportunity to jerk himself off, growling when his knot popped in his hand and he came, making a mess all over his hands and Cas’ ass.

They both lied there panting but content, Dean heard faint laughter coming from Cas and he couldn’t help but laugh too.

“Sure you don’t want a quick nap before food?” Dean laughed.

Cas pressed deeper into Dean’s neck and Dean wrapped his clean hand around him.

“You’re a sneaky bastard, Dean Winchester.”

Dean took that as a yes and let Cas collapse against him as they both closed their eyes just for a little while.

“Have you ever considered nude modeling?”

“Dean, focus,” Cas admonished. “What are the kitchen dimensions?”

Dean grunted. “Eleven hundred square feet right now. Seriously, Cas, wouldn’t it be great to have you naked on my couch while I draw you?”

Cas turned back to him giving him that ‘are you really serious’ look that made Dean grin.

“Dean, will you focus, please?”

“You’d make a hot nude model and it’d be romantic.”

Dean was the one sprawled out on the couch now, wearing a skimpy pair of boxers and an old band t-shirt while Cas opted to wear another pair of Dean’s sweats as he sat on the floor, laptop in hand with papers Dean had taken from his office spread out on the coffee table. Dean sat watching Cas plug away at the spreadsheet on his laptop, numbers flowing together in a string that no doubt made sense to Cas, but looked like a foreign language to him.

Cas huffed and shook his head.

“If you finish this project, I will consider your random request.” His tone indicated it was a longshot even if Dean complied.

Dean stared at the sketches sitting in his lap. He’d stared at them for a solid twenty-five minutes, but there wasn’t much he could do. He’d reviewed all the notes from his last meeting with Amara and everything was there, even the last minute request for a second story outdoor dining area.

If Dean looked at it any longer, he was going to rip it to shreds.

Cas turned back to him, seemingly aware of his frustration, if the way he was giving him a sympathetic look with those blue eyes was any indication.

“Your scent is distracting,” Cas complained.

“So is yours. Kinda hard to sit here without wanting to jump your bones,” Dean quipped.

“I’m being serious, Dean,” Cas grumbled as he pushed Dean’s legs out of the way and took a seat next to him.

“I am too, Cas.” Cas was sitting dressed in another pair of Dean’s sweatpants and t-shirts, his hair was a wild mess from all sex and his scent a homey mix of cinnamon and pine, the perfect mixture of the both of them. Dean honestly wondered why Cas was still thinking Dean was capable of getting anything done right now.

“What’s bothering you?” Cas asked, seemingly able to pick up that there was still something eating away at Dean. God, were they were this mated already that Cas could easily see through him now?

Dean froze before hiding his shock behind a casual shrug.

“Nothing. Just hate all these numbers and shit.”

“No, that’s not it. There’s something else going on,” Cas hummed.

“Seriously, m’fine Cas.”

Cas shook his head. “Dean.” He knew that voice too well. That was the same tone Ellen used to get when she knew he, Sam, or Jo were obviously hiding something.  

“Fine,” Dean groaned. “I don’t know. I guess—I just never thought you and I would get here, you know? I mean you’re sitting on my couch in my clothes. It’s weird.” When Cas gave him that slight head tilt and puzzled glance Dean felt a pit form in his stomach. “Don’t get me wrong, I love it. Having you here.”

“So why are you so puzzled by it then?” Cas asked.

Dean went silent and instead listened to that buzzing in his brain. He’d been so concerned about Cas that he really hadn’t taken a moment to reflect on the fact that he had Cas here with him. But when he thought about it, he just thought about Cas’ smile. He thought about how Cas melted into his touch and vice-versa.

“Shit, Cas—I guess it’s just that the good things that I want never seem to happen. I mean yeah, I’ve got a good job and all of that, but I’ve spent so long wanting what Sammy has.”

“Your brother?” Cas asked.

“Yeah. He’s got the house with the white picket fence, the kickass mate, kids and everything. Eileen’s freaking amazing, and Jesse is the only reason I want kids. But I never thought I’d get it cause I wanted that with you.”

Cas gave him that smile that seemed a cross between amused and pitying and Dean felt nauseous.

“Dean,” Cas said gently. God he hated emotions and that feeling of being coddled.

“Just ignore me, Cas. I said it so I’m good.”

Castiel though didn’t seem to take no for an answer, and instead slotted himself in between Dean’s legs, and now it was Dean’s turn to questioningly stare back at Cas.

“You need to stop worrying, Dean. We have time to figure this all out. It doesn’t have to happen right now.” When Cas let himself fall lazily against Dean’s chest, he couldn’t help but crack a smile at how touchy-feely Cas was in heat.

“I know, Cas. Just can’t help myself. I like this thing we got going on now. Don’t wanna lose it.”

“And you won’t. I’m not going anywhere, Dean.”

Dean let his fingers card through Cas’ hair and Cas rewarded him with a purr. He could really get used to this vulnerable side of Cas.

“I know. I just like hearing you say that.”

“Assbutt,” Cas teased.

Just then Dean’s phone started buzzing where Dean had left it on the coffee table. Cas reached over and grabbed it, idly looking at it before handing it to Dean.

“Ellen? Is that your adopted mom?” Cas asked.

“Shit,” Dean sighed. “Forgot she was gonna call. She probably wants to know if I’m coming up for the barbeque.”

“Well answer it,” Cas urged.

“I will. I will. Bossy pants.”

That earned him a smack with one of the couch pillows before he accepted the call, holding the phone up to his ear and not at all concerned about the omega snuggled on top of him.

“Well look who decided to pick up the phone,” his foster mother started, and Dean braced himself for what was about to come. “You don’t call, you don’t text. Hell, I’m lucky to get a visit at Thanksgiving or Christmas nowadays. I know I taught you better than that, Dean Winchester.”

“Hey, Ellen,” he greeted.

“Don’t ‘hey Ellen’ me now. You know you’re supposed to call me or Bobby every couple of weeks to check in on us. Especially Bobby with his reckless ass.”

He heard Bobby yell something unintelligible in the background and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Don’t think Bobby took to kindly to you talking ‘bout him behind his back.”

“Nothin’ I won’t say to his face, ain’t that right, Bobby?” she asked, her voice directed somewhere off the phone.

“Don’t listen to whatever she’s poisonin’ your head with, boy,” Bobby yelled back, clearer this time.

Dean laughed. “Tell Bobby I said hey.”

“I’ll do that. Better yet, you do it yourself, _in person_ , when we have the barbeque in a few weeks.” That tone was a questioning tone, Ellen getting straight to the point of why she was calling. “You better be coming, Dean, or else I’m coming up to that office myself and demanding a vacation for you.”

“I’m coming, Ellen. Sheesh. You know I wouldn’t miss your and Bobby’s barbecue.”

“Alone?” she mentioned, her tone leading.

“I don’t know. Maybe? It’s up in the air right now.”

“Funny. That’s what you said the last time we tried to get yours and Sam’s butts back up here. You’re lucky Jo didn’t drive down there to kick your ass when you cancelled. Sam kept her occupied most of the time.”

Boy was she right. He hadn’t forgotten that string of angry texts from Jo before he got the silent treatment for weeks afterwards. He loved Jo, but she was a tiny, blonde beta with the temper of an alpha, and he knew how easily she could put the fear of God in anyone if she wanted.

“Speaking of, where is she? I haven’t gotten my weekly Skype demands from her lately.”

“Drowning herself in work. Girl’s been picking up extra shifts at the Roadhouse. Could be a sign that Ash is startin’ to win her over. Or it could be her needing some extra cash since she decided to go back to—well speak of the devil.”

Dean looked down at Cas who was staring idly at his sketchpad with his architectural drawings of the Shurley’s restaurant.

“Is that her?”

“Sure is. I’ll let you two talk for a bit. But remember, you back out, you can kiss your pie at Thanksgiving and Christmas this year goodbye.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Dean learned the hard way to take Ellen’s threats seriously, especially when it involved pie.

“Love you, honey. And take care of yourself.”

Dean smiled warmly, one of the few times outside of Cas and Sam that made him feel like this.

“Yeah, yeah. Love you too.”

“Jo! Come get the phone. It’s Dean,” she yelled away from the phone again. A brief few moments of silence passed and Dean used the time to look down at Cas who was still studying each of Dean’s sketches. He couldn’t be sure, but he assumed Cas was trying to give him some semblance of privacy by attempting to occupy himself.

“So, you finally decided to call,” Jo immediately said.

“Hello to you too,” Dean laughed.

“Mom says you’re coming to the barbeque.” Her words weren’t so much as a question as much as it was a thinly veiled threat. Dean knew the trap all too well. “You are coming, right?”

“What would you do if I wasn’t?”

“Well, I’d have to pencil in some time to come down there and kick your ass.”

Dean chuckled. “Like you could.”

“Oh, I could. Just cause you’re an alpha doesn’t I can’t put you on your ass.”

Dean shook his head, and found his free hand tangling itself in Cas’ hair.

“Fair enough, Joanna Beth. But you’ll have to save the ass-kicking for later cause I’ll be there.”

“Damn. I was really looking for a chance to come down there too,” Jo laughed. “Seriously though, I’m glad you’re coming. I kinda miss seeing your old mug around here.”

“Who you calling old?” Dean indignantly replied. Cas turned to look up at him, and Dean watched as a smile stretched out across Cas’ face.

“You, old man,” Jo fired back. “Seriously, when are you gonna settle down and get a mate. I think mom and Bobby are ready for more grandkids, and I don’t think they’re exactly eyeing me to have any soon.”

Dean looked down at Cas, realizing that he had to find some way to break it to them. Hell, he hadn’t even thought about asking if Cas wanted to go with him. Suddenly, panic was starting to creep up on him.

“I—uh—might have someone. I don’t know. It’s early, but I might come alone, I might not. We’ll see.” 

Jo gasped and Dean rolled his eyes. “Dean Winchester, are you dating someone and you haven’t told me?”

“You’ll find out when the time is right. And don’t you dare tell Bobby, Ellen, or Sam or so help me, I will tell them about you and Ash.” Jo went silent after that, a muted grumble his clear sign of victory this round.

“Fine. But you better let me meet them soon!”

“You will. I promise. He’s gotta get the Jo seal of approval before we make this official after all.”

Dean’s nose became attuned to the rising scent of Cas’ pheromones flaring again, and he cursed the short amount of time before Cas flared up again. “Hey, I’ve got a project to work on, so I’ll check in with you soon.”

“Alright, but I’m serious, Dean. I wanna meet him.”

“You will, ya brat,” Dean teased.

“Whatever, old man. I’ll catch you later. And no backing out! I know where you live.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll talk to you later, Jo.”

When the line went dead, Dean tossed his phone back on the table while Cas flipped around so that he was now facing up at Dean.

“Seems like you had a good phone call,” Cas noted as he studied Dean with a lazy smile on his chapped lips.

“Makes you say that?”

“You smell content. It’s very calming.”

Dean shrugged, but was now acutely aware of the large smile plastered on his face.

“Yeah, well you’re just saying that cause you’re in heat and you’re about to flare up again.”

“I know that smile, Dean. Though you are correct that I think another flare up is coming on, which is why we are going to make some progress on this project before you fuck me.”

“Geez, you’re not gonna let up, are you?”

Cas grinned and shook his head before sitting up. Dean lamented the loss of touch, not realizing just how much of an addict he was to Cas’ touch until he lost it even if it was only briefly.

“I couldn’t help but overhear that I have to get someone’s seal of approval?” Cas inquired as he moved back down on the floor.

“Oh—uh—yeah.” That panic returned, but he decided to just go with it. If he and Cas were going to be on this honesty kick, he might as well keep it up. “My family… they’re—uh—doing this barbeque up at their place. It’s not a big deal or anything. Just a chance to get everyone together for a few days. Sam and his wife and kid’ll be there, and I said I’d come too.”

“Sounds fun,” Cas said evenly, returning his attention to the spreadsheets scattered on the table.

Dean gulped, hopefully quietly enough that Cas couldn’t hear before sucking it up and going for it.

“You know, you could come if you want. I think they’d all be dying to meet ya.”

Cas turned back to him, his expression unreadable at first, and Dean felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest and onto the floor. This whole mating was new to them both, and he wasn’t expecting Cas to be so receptive to something like a family reunion, and he wasn’t sure how he’d react if Cas turned him down. Suddenly, death was a more welcome feeling right now.

But then Cas smiled, and Dean found himself breathing normally again.

“Of course, Dean. You seem very excited to go, and I’d be foolish not to go with you. Besides, your sister sounds like a fun person, if she can scare you.”

Dean grinned and laughed a little. He didn’t even care if he was flooding the room with his happy scent now.

“Cas, that’s great! I mean if you’re sure. I swear, if you’re not feeling it, I’m totally fine with that.”

Cas shook his head and pulled Dean in by the collar of his shirt and kissed him gently, and despite his surprise, Dean melted into the kiss, letting his hands caress Cas’ cheek.

“Dean, I’m seriously fine. I want to spend time with you and your family. We are mates, and I want to know as much about you as I can. I do have a lot of lost time to make up for.”

“Nothin’ to make up for at all. We got forever,” Dean smiled.

“Yes, we do,” Cas replied, his smile just as wide. Before Dean could say anything else though, he felt something thrust into his chest and looked down to see Cas handing him back his sketchpad. “But forever can start after we finish this project.”

“Goddamn it, Cas! You’re ruining the moment,” Dean grumbled.

Cas smirked mischievously before winking at him in an over-exaggerated manner. Dean couldn’t help but smile.

“I’ll make it up to you as long as you’re a good boy and work hard.”

And in this moment, with Cas right here, heat, project or whatever the hell life threw at them, Dean wasn’t sure he could think of anything else better than this.

______________________________________________

 

“Damnit, Cas. I’m nervous,” Dean grumbled as he and Cas stood outside the conference room where Chuck and Amara Shurley were waiting for them.

“Dean, you need to relax. Everything looked great. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Easy for you to say, Cas! Your spreadsheets looked fucking amazing compared to my shit sketches,” Dean muttered.

They were sitting outside the executive conference room, a nice switch up since Zachariah and Naomi were joining them for the presentation this time around. Cas was composed and all business as usual.

He, on the other hand, was a nervous wreck, his hair a near disaster from the amount of times he’d run his fingers frantically through it, beads of sweat coating his forehead.

Cas’ heat had, for the most part, resolved itself by Wednesday. Though if he had to choose between this and staying locked in his apartment and suffering through this project while fucking Cas in between, the choice would’ve been easy.

Cas was technically still in heat, but his flares up were manageable now with some Tylenol and a couple of suppressants. Dean still hated the scent of Cas on his suppressants and dampeners, but they had agreed for now it was best.

They still had all lot of shit to work out, but he didn’t fight Cas on the suppressants because he knew it was temporary. Everything was a mutual decision from Cas taking suppressants and dampeners to Cas riding with Dean to work.

But reality hit them both Wednesday night when Cas had hit the send button to fire off the entire project: sketches, budget and cost analyses, risk analysis, everything to the Shurley’s and their attorneys. He’d been on the verge of a panic attack ever since.

Cas placed his hands squarely on Dean’s shoulders, stilling him before letting his hands slowly trail down to his tie that he adjusted for him.

“Dean, I’ve looked at your sketches countless times and they look fantastic.”

“You’re only saying that cause you’re my mate and you gotta make me feel good.” Dean couldn’t get enough of saying that even if Cas rolled his eyes every time now.

“I would argue that it gives me even more of a right to tell if you it was horrible, and I haven’t because they’re not.”

Dean sighed and slunk back into the chair. He wanted this to be over and done with.

Just then, the door to the conference room opened and Zachariah emerged, a smarmy smile on his face as he turned to Dean.

“Let’s get this show on the road, boys,” the alpha executive announced.

Zachariah disappeared back inside the room and Dean and Cas both stood, but right as Dean took a step forward, Cas appeared beside him and he felt his lips on his cheek, the feeling gone as quickly as it came.

“You’ll do fine, Dean,” Cas reassured one last time.

Dean felt the beginnings of a smile form, especially watching Cas boldly march into the conference room. Dean was only happy to trail behind him, doing a piss-poor job of hiding his grin as Cas stood beside him at the front of the conference room where Dean’s sketches had been blown up on an easel next to them, and a projector was displaying Dean’s 3D model of the Shurley’s restaurant in front of them.

Cas seemed unbothered, but his scent was still unreadable to him. He wished he had it though especially as he looked out into the group gathered at the table.

Amara Shurley was homed in on him, gaze intense like she could see right through him and watch his heart beating. Chuck Shurley was dressed nicer, still unshaven, but that just seemed to be his thing. They were joined by a portly, curly-haired man who looked unimpressed already, a beta if his scent was anything to go by. Then there was Zachariah, who was intentionally pumping out an excess of alpha pheromones probably as a way to try and establish some sort of presence in the room. It was nothing compared to Naomi, who was completely unreadable, which made her all the more terrifying. It seemed Naomi was more focused on Cas, her gaze directed on him like she was waiting for him to slip or something. Cas, though, was unbothered, standing firm with his chest pushed out and looking straight ahead.

“Though I don’t think there’s any need for introductions, I did want to introduce you both to the Shurley’s attorney, Marv Armstrong,” Zachariah said offhandedly.

Marv remained seated, but nodded in greeting, which Dean assumed was the most they were going to get. He didn’t expect any less from someone who worked under Amara Shurley.

“Dean, why don’t you kick us off,” Zachariah advised.

Dean swallowed, but he turned to Cas who offered him another tiny reassuring smile and he decided he could do this.

“Mornin’ everyone. As you know, you all asked Cas and I here to knock your socks off with plans for your new restaurant, and we’re proud to say we got a real winner right here.”

He knew how to charm people, even alphas like Zachariah, who already seemed bright-eyed with excitement at the acclaim he’d get if Dean and Cas succeeded. Dean knew the guy all too well.

He turned to Cas, and Cas stepped forward, completely in tune with his cue.

“Dean and I have worked hard and diligently to deliver to you a model that both fits the criteria you requested and remains cost-efficient. In fact, should you go with the plans presented today, we estimate that you could save over $200,000,” Cas explained, not a hint of nerves in his voice. Dean wasn’t sure he could be prouder of Cas.

Dean looked at Amara who was now eyeing the both of them cautiously.

“That’s a very bold claim to make,” she said carefully.

“We wouldn’t make it if we couldn’t back it up,” Dean said directly, but masking it behind his go-to charming smile. He turned to Cas before looking back at her. “Cas is the genius who brought my sketches to life. He’s run those numbers so many times I’m not sure how he hasn’t gone insane. He’ll deliver on what he promises, hands down.”

There was a tense moment of silence, but Dean caught a quick amused smirk on her face before she slowly leaned back in her seat.

“Alright. Let’s see what you got,” she challenged.

“Will do. First Cas will give you the materials and budget run-down before I talk about the sketch and model designs,” Dean answered.

Cas cleared his throat and took the remote for the projector pressing next to move to the next slide of their presentation.

“As Dean said, we have optimized our designs to ensure that your restaurant is not only state of the art like you requested, but also adheres to and, in some cases, exceeds the environmental-friendly guidelines set forth by the federal government and allows you to save an estimated $200,000 as Dean said before.”

Dean stared in awe as Cas explained the ins and outs of their project, detailing every single budget item and associated cost with a masterful ease. When it was Dean’s turn to discuss his designs and models, he rolled up his sleeves and went to work, hoping that he displayed the same sense of comfort and confidence that Cas had shown. He couldn’t glean much from the faces of their audience. Everyone remained stoic except for Chuck Shurley, who seemed amused by the whole presentation. He even offered a small smile when Dean’s eyes connected with his. Amara, on the other hand, had her eyes focused directly on him when he spoke, and Dean despised the knot in his stomach that formed whenever he looked at her too long.

Good or bad, they finished right on time, leaving a short ten minutes for feedback, and of course, the final decision on whether or not Amara and Chuck Shurley were going to contract with Sandover.

“Well let me be the first to say I’m mighty impressed with the work that’s been done. Dean, those designs are excellent. Gotta be some of the best work we’ve seen here at Sandover,” Zachariah praised. Dean didn’t miss how Zachariah honed in on Dean’s accomplishments alone. It was a subtle dismissal of Cas, but not enough that Dean didn’t catch it and want to punch the alpha executive in the throat for it.

“I will echo Zachariah’s sentiments. You both put together a very excellent presentation. The numbers were very promising,” Naomi added. Dean hadn’t realized his lips were formed in a near snarl until Naomi’s comment had his lips unfurling into a smile. “But at the end of the day, the decision will be left to our clients, so I’ll turn the floor over to them.”

Dean swallowed again, and he could sense Cas stiffen next to him, that calm façade fading.

Chuck was the first to speak, clearing his throat before smiling up at the both of them.

“Well I think you both gave great ideas for the restaurant. I think any of the proposals you put together would be amazing, and I think the investors would love it.”

Chuck’s words were a welcome relief, but Dean knew it was Amara who would decide it all. He’d caved and watched some of the Chopped episodes she and Chuck both starred on, and it wasn’t surprising that every dish Amara despised didn’t make it past that round.

Now he and Cas were on the chopping block.

Her expression was still unreadable behind her dark makeup.

“How can I ensure that this project will save us as much as you’re promising? I don’t want to promise our investors something and not deliver on it,” she finally said, her tone even but direct.

“I’ve run the numbers several times, taking into account several different risk factors and scenarios, and if you go with one of Dean’s designs, we can guarantee savings,” Cas answered, his voice firm, but Dean somehow knew he was nervous.

Dean stood next to Cas, letting his hand brush against Cas’ in a way that would look like an accident to anyone else, but to both of them, it was a reassuring sign.

“I’ll stake my license on it. You work with us and I’ll personally ensure that everything goes just like we outlined in this plan.”

Amara’s smile was predatory, like they both were a five course dinner ready to be devoured.

“I want to consult with my brother and our attorney first.”

Dean knew when he was being dismissed so he smiled and nodded in agreement, leaving with Cas right behind him.

“We’ll be outside,” he said as he closed the door behind them.

When the door shut, he let out a large sigh of relief. God, he hated presentations like that. Made him wonder why he ever took a job in management in the first place. Beside him, Cas had finally allowed his true feelings to show, a frustrated frown plastered on his face.

“You did great, Cas,” Dean said.

Cas sighed and fell down into the chair behind him.

“I could’ve done better. I should’ve used more charts or graphs to show the potential costs and sav—”

“Woah, Cas, slow down,” Dean interrupted, moving next to Cas. “You sold the hell outta that project. You didn’t miss a beat. They don’t wanna invest in us that’s on them.”

Cas offered a tiny smile, but that smile seemed to instantly dissipate when he looked over towards the sound of a door closing.

When Dean turned to look, he noticed that same beta who’d caught him taking Cas’ computer walking up to them, a smug look on his face.

“Hello, Castiel. I was wondering where you’d been,” he greeted them.

“Hello, Bartholomew,” Cas greeted, doing little to hide his disdain for the man.

“You missed a lot during your time out of the office. I picked up a few of your projects, you know, to help lighten your load a bit. Didn’t want you to get overwhelmed since I’m sure you had  _ other  _ things to take care of.”

The man made Dean’s skin crawl. Every nerve in his body was screaming for Dean to rip him apart, but he resisted.

“That’s very thoughtful of you. I’m sure I’ll get a chance to look over the material firsthand when it gets sent back to me for further review.”

Dean snickered at that while Bartholomew’s smugness darkened into rage.

There was an intense stare-off between the two of them, but Bartholomew let out a breath before that arrogant look returned.

“Obviously that’s the heat talking. You need me to fetch you some suppressants?”

That was it.

Dean was up in an instant, Cas unable to yank him back down in his seat before Dean approached Bartholomew.

“I don’t think we got a chance to properly introduce ourselves when we met the other day,” Dean said sticking his hand out for the beta to shake. Bartholomew warily shook his hand, and Dean made extra sure to grip it tight just for added fun.

“Yes, I seem to remember you coming to fetch Castiel’s things when he was indisposed. I’d assumed you were just his mate or something.”

Dean grinned at the complete disdain in the beta’s voice. “Dean Winchester, project management.”

That seemed to scare Bartholomew a bit, his eyes going wide for a moment. “Bartholomew, senior accountant.”

Dean nodded his head. “So you work for Frank right?”

Dean relished the worry he was seeing and scenting on the man now. It was almost as sweet as Cas’ scent.

“Yes—I do.”

“Ahh gotcha. Frank’s a good guy. Real dependable and fair. Definitely not someone who would—uh—take too kindly to hearing some of the things I’m hearing right now.”

“Oh—Castiel and I—we—go way back. It’s just a joke between us,” Bartholomew stammered trying to ease the situation.

“From where I’m standing, it doesn’t seem like there’s a lot of joking. What do you think, Cas?”

“No. I don’t think there is either,” Castiel smugly agreed.

Dean turned back from his mate to face Bartholomew, leaning in so he could whisper quietly to the beta.

“ _ Between us _ , if I ever hear you talk like that to Cas, or any omega in this organization, I’ll have Frank and HR on your ass so fast your head’s gonna be spinning. And I’ll see to it that I personally escort you out of the office for good. We clear?”

He could hear Bartholomew swallow being so close and he had absolutely no shame in pumping out enough alpha pheromones just to get the point across that he was pissed.

Bartholomew backed away, looking between the two of them before wordlessly excusing himself and making a beeline to the elevator.

“Still gonna rat his ass out to Frank anyways,” Dean said.

“Dean, I could’ve handled that,” Cas grumbled, though clearly amused if the smirk on his face was anything to go by.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. But I like taking care of you,” Dean grinned. Cas turned a mildly irritated glance towards him, but Dean simply sat beside Cas and shamelessly let his hand eclipse Cas’, extracting the comforting feeling touching Cas brought him. “I know you can take care of yourself, but I want to do it for you sometimes.”

Cas huffed, but even without being able to scent him, Dean knew Cas wasn’t angry. Being mates and letting their guards down around each other was an adjustment both of them would have to work at every day.

Eventually, Cas turned to Dean and a coy smile appeared across his lips.

“Thank you, Dean.”

“Anytime, Cas,” Dean replied, returning it with a bright smile of his own.

The door to the conference room opened and Dean hadn’t realized how closely he’d been leaning towards Cas until the two of them pulled away, sitting up straight and attempting to look as inconspicuous as possible.

Zachariah and Naomi were the first to emerge, both with even looks on their faces, both of them turned to Dean and Cas.

“The Shurley’s want to have a minute with you two privately,” Naomi stated.

Dean swallowed. That couldn’t be good.

“Don’t keep them waiting,” Zachariah rushed, his voice giving away his displeasure.

Yeah, they were really fucked.

“Ready, Cas?” Dean asked.

“Yes.”

The two of them returned to the conference room and closed the door behind him to the scrutinizing looks of the Shurley’s and their attorney.

Amara wasted no time this go-round, standing to address the two of them.

“My brother and I have discussed your presentation at length with our attorney and, we both agreed that we would like to like to sign an exclusive contract with Sandover to design both this restaurant and all future restaurants, if and only if, you two are leading the project.”

Dean’s brain shut down somewhere around the world ‘exclusive’ and it took Cas’ quiet elation beside him to realize that they did it.

“Wait… you mean, you want us to design all your restaurants?” Dean asked, voice soft and low in confusion.

“You both were a breath of fresh air to work with. It’s also rare that a company like this lets two mates work together. We like to support companies and people who champion ideas like that,” Chuck commented.

Dean devolved into a quick coughing fit and Cas stilled beside him. They had been so careful but the fact that Chuck knew they were mates clearly meant they had fucked up somewhere.

“You—uh—you knew?” Dean sputtered.

Amara smiled again, but there was a noticeable lack of hunger in it this time.

“I knew from our first meeting. Castiel here was seething the first time I looked at you. I know what mates look like, and you two were— _ different _ —but mates nonetheless. But you got the job done and done well, and that’s the kind of forward thinking we want to support.”

“Just between all of us, if you two ever decided to start your own business, consider Amara and I your first backers,” Chuck added.

“That’s—thank you,” Cas said, still too stunned to fully express himself from what Dean could tell.

“You two keep up the good work, and this could be the start of a very beautiful partnership,” Amara said. Chuck’s phone started beeping loudly and he pulled it out and turned to his sister, nodding his head slightly. “We’ve got a flight to catch, but Marv will send you the contracts to review.”

And just like that, all their things were collected and they were out the door but not before Chuck turned back to grin one last time at them both, clearing his throat. “Take care of yourselves and each other. You’ve got a real good thing going on.”

And then they were alone, just Dean and Cas.

It was silent for a moment, but just as suddenly, Dean devolved into a fit of laughter, earning him a scorning look from Cas who was still every bit as mortified now as he was when they first walked in.

“Dean, this isn’t funny! They know we’re mates!”

Dean tried to compose himself, but he struggled to get control of himself.

“I know,” Dean laughed.

Finally, after a few moments, he stopped laughing to kiss Cas, pulling his omega mate close to him. Cas was frozen, fright filling his body, but then he leaned into him, letting his hands rest on Dean’s forearms.

“What was that for?” Cas asked when Dean pulled back.

“I’m just really fucking happy, Cas. We got the job!”

It took a moment for that to sink in, but when it finally seemed to click, a grin spread out across Cas’ face.

“We did, didn’t we?”

“You bet your ass, we did. And I don’t know about you, but I really feel like celebrating right now, and I think it’d be a hell of a lot better celebrating with my mate.” Yeah, he was definitely never going to get tired of saying that.

“Dean Winchester, you are insufferable,” Cas teased.

Dean leaned into kiss him on the lips one more time, drinking in the feeling of his mate beside him and happy, the weight of the world seemingly off his shoulders now.

“That’s why you love me,” Dean replied.

Cas stared at him, big blue eyes honest and glimmering, and Dean felt like he could see the future—their future—reflected in them. He and Cas, they were going to be alright.

“You’re right, Dean. I do love you.”


	10. Chapter 10

##  **Chapter 10**

“Are you nervous?” Castiel asked as he turned to Dean.       

“Stop asking. I’m fine,” Dean grumbled as they walked into the restaurant, his jacket hiked up over his shoulders and hands dug into the pockets of his jeans, making him look even more brooding.

“Your scent says otherwise.” Castiel gave Dean his best concerned look, but Dean just pouted and looked away.

“Quit scentin’ me, Cas. I ain’t nervous. Just hate being late and I don’t see why we gotta have some big reveal at this damn restaurant.”

Castiel couldn’t help but smile at Dean’s petulance, especially in the face of the obvious fact that Dean was irritable that they were going to reveal that they were mated to their friends. It was the last thing they had to do before they took time off to go see Dean’s family.

“It was your idea to get it done all at once, so lunch with everyone seemed the most efficient way to do so,” Castiel shrugged.

When they were inside, Castiel’s eyes homed in on both Meg and Balthazar who were already seated at a table with Dean’s friends, Charlie and Benny. All of them were smiling and laughing, and now Castiel was confused.

“It seems our friends are already acquainted with each other,” he noted.

Dean grumbled and Castiel caught his eyes rolling. “Fan-freaking-tastic. Let’s just get this over with.”

Castiel huffed, but lead him and Dean over to the booth, everyone’s eyes turning up to them as soon as they came into view.

“Well, look who it is. The two lovebirds together in person. You owe me twenty,” Meg said, leaning back in her seat and turning her eyes to Charlie.

“Damn it! I was so close too,” Charlie griped as she dug through her purse.

“Wait, was there a bet?” Castiel inquired tilting his head confused.

“Charlie here thought you two wouldn’t make it out the bedroom much less to lunch. Meg here said you’d still make it, but be late,” Benny explained.

“Hold up a sec,” Dean said, freezing in place. Castiel watched Dean survey the group, and everyone, from Benny to Balthazar, was grinning knowingly, and now Castiel was realizing that maybe they had nothing to reveal. “You mean to tell me you assholes already knew?

“Of course we did,” Balthazar answered. “We’ve all had bets on when you two would finally get your shit together for months now.”

Now even Castiel couldn’t help looking utterly shocked. All this time he was worried about interacting with Dean and his friends at work, he hadn’t even thought about the distinct possibility that Balthazar and Meg would eventually meet Dean’s friends.

Dean’s scent was acrid with irritation and Castiel was well aware of how much Dean hated being surprised, especially in a situation like this where he was supposed to be doing the surprising.

“Dean,” Castiel warned.

His words reached his mate, and Dean exhaled a large breath, collecting himself and letting his scent settle before he took his seat beside Benny and Cas took his seat opposite him and next to Meg.

“When did you all find out?” Castiel asked.

Balthazar grinned amusedly.

“I think it was pretty obvious when I saw Bartholomew looking about ready to fling his desk out a window after getting chewed out by the two of you.”

Castiel watched as Dean’s scowl lightened and he sniggered, no doubt remembering how he’d put Bartholomew in his place. To this day, the obnoxious beta hadn’t been a problem for him any longer. He imagined it had something to do with the fact that Frank had re-assigned him to some trivial accounts that no doubt bored him.

Meg shrugged. “Missouri in HR saw Dean dropping off some papers last month, coincidentally, at the same time Clarence had texted me he wasn’t going to be in for a few days. Wasn’t hard to put two and two together.”

Castiel squirmed. He forgot people in HR talked a lot. And with Meg working there, in hindsight, it wasn’t all that surprising she’d figured it out.

“So why didn’t you assholes tell us you knew?” Dean questioned.

“Figured it’d be more fun watching you two figure it out yourselves,” Benny laughed.

“Damn it, Benny. I thought I could trust you,” Dean half-growled and half-laughed. Castiel could scent that Dean’s mood had improved. He always seemed to glow when he was around his friends, from what he could sense.

“We don’t have to implement our backup plan, now that Clarence isn’t trying to back out of this still,” Meg said dubiously.  

Castiel gulped. “Do I want to know what that plan was?”

Meg smirked devilishly. “It’s best you don’t.” That only seemed to both frighten and stir Castiel’s curiosity even more. But knowing Meg, it was better that beast wasn’t poked. After all, he had no intentions of leaving Dean anytime soon, if ever.

Sometimes, he forgot that he and Dean had been together for over a month now. The days with Dean were so easy they seemed to pass quickly. Castiel had essentially moved into Dean’s apartment, his clothes slowly accumulating in his closet or strewn about on his floor. He was learning that he was the messier one in the relationship. His own apartment laid almost barren, the lack of Dean’s alpha scent there so off-putting he’d been unable to sleep the last time he stayed there. He already declared his intent to move out at the end of his lease, so he and Dean were discussing whose furniture went where.

Still, at work they did their best to keep their relationship secret, only until the contracts had been signed and the project timeline finalized. Zachariah and Naomi had gotten off their case about the project, which took a large amount of pressure off them.

He and Dean hadn’t discussed when Castiel would go off his medications, but Castiel knew it was coming.

Despite being lost in thought, he became acutely aware that Dean’s friend Charlie was staring at him adoringly. He must have done a bad of job of hiding is confusion as Benny seemed to catch on too.

“Chère, why are you staring?” Benny directed at Charlie.

Charlie was all smiles though as she gazed at him and Castiel got a sense she was all but enamored with him.

“He’s just so dreamy. I don’t get how Dean got so lucky,” she sighed.

Castiel’s attention shifted to Dean, who was beaming at him, gazing at Cas with that rare toothy smile of his.

“I did get lucky, didn’t I?” Dean said. Castiel didn’t answer. He simply smiled back, becoming blissfully unaware of the people around them.

Meg and Balthazar both scoffed in mock disgust.

“I don’t know what’s worse: him pining over Dean, or him openly in love with him now,” Balthazar said.

Castiel glowered at his friend, but Balthazar just returned it with a shit-eating grin before taking a sip of his beer.

“Relax, Cassie. I think all of us at the table can happily toast to you and Dean finally putting us all out of our misery and getting together. We are truly happy for you both.”

Benny, Charlie, and Meg all raised their drinks to that and Castiel laughed before looking away and realizing that he and Dean both were still drinkless. And despite his gruff expression, Castiel could tell Dean was happy. His scent was fresh now. And even though he was giving his friends a glare, they saw through it.

“Alright, alright. You all had your fun, but you better get your wallets out now cause you’re treating Cas and I to a celebratory lunch, and I’m starving,” Dean warned jokingly, though Castiel wasn’t sure Dean was actually joking.

“How are you going to make us pay when you make more than all of us at this table, Dean!” Charlie gawked.

Dean shrugged. “Sorry, Charlotte. Thems the breaks. Ain’t that right, Cas?”

Castiel laughed and nodded. “Dean’s correct. I think it would only be fair.”

“Well that’s not surprising. It didn’t take Clarence long at all to turn on us now that he’s got a mate,” Meg ribbed, elbowing Castiel lightly.

Castiel smiled, even harder when he felt Dean’s hand cover his on the table.

“Better get used to it, Meg. Cas and I are a unit now,” he said, emerald green eyes meeting his own gaze.

“That is until we can snatch him away for Taboo. I got a hunch that Cas will be mighty good at that, and have Dean cussin’ up a storm,” Benny chimed in.

And while Castiel loved every minute of being mated to Dean, he was positive seeing him riled up over board games would be worth every minute.

__________________________________

 

Castiel was still getting used to the Impala, much to Dean’s chagrin. The thing lacked a working air conditioner and a CD player and was so contrary to what someone in Dean’s pay grade would drive. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anyone so attached to a car the way Dean was attached to his. Some days, he was convinced Dean loved the car more than him.

“Why couldn’t we have flown to your parent’s?” Castiel grumbled as Dean tapped his fingers in rhythm to a Led Zepplin tune coming from the cassette player.

“Told ya. I don’t do planes at all. Not even for business. Haven’t been on one in years,” Dean said so matter-of-fact, as if Castiel should’ve already known this.

“But the company gives us discounts on airfare. We could be in first class seats at no cost. It seems so impractical to drive when we could be there in less than two hours.”

“Sure, but the company pays less for me to fill up on gas there and back, and I get to keep my two feet on the ground and my wheels on the road. And you don’t have to drive at all, so I don’t see what you’re complaining about.”

Castiel sunk deeper into the leather seat and folded his arms.

“I’m complaining about having to be up at four in the morning just so you can drive thirteen hours when we could’ve been up for a ten am for a flight that landed at one,” Cas bemoaned.

Dean huffed but turned that don’t-worry-about-it grin towards him.

“Relax, Cas. Just enjoy the ride. Besides, this gives us time to just kickback and talk,” Dean noted as he pressed the button to skip to the next track.

“What would you want to talk about that we don’t already discuss at length back in your apartment?” Castiel asked as he rummaged through Dean’s glove compartment.

“I don’t know. Maybe tell me more about your family. Have you talked to them since we figured this whole mating thing out?” 

Castiel chuckled a little bit at that. Gabriel had wasted no time in relaying that information back to his other siblings, and the emails from Michael and random texts from Lucifer had started up almost immediately.

“Yes, they’re aware. Michael is very insistent that we visit him soon.”

“Woah. Sounds kind of intense. You think they’ll like me?” Dean asked.

“Lucifer will. He’s very non-traditional.”

“With a name like Lucifer, I’m not surprised,” Dean laughed. “What about your other brother?”

“Michael? Oh, he won’t like you at all. He is very old-fashioned like my parents were, so I’m sure he feels the need to ensure that you’re a good fit for me. He more than likely will not be a fan of how we met.” Dean tensed, his grip tightening on the steering wheel and the beginnings of a scowl spreading across his lips. Castiel just smiled though, enjoying how easy it was to read Dean. “But that’s one of the reasons visiting him will be fun.”

“What, so he can tell me how shitty of an alpha I am for you?” Dean growled.

Castiel put his hand on Dean’s thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze, and Dean turned his attention away from the road to look Castiel in the eyes, relaxing slightly.

“No. So I can show him, and by extension my parents, how well I turned out without all that unnecessary omega pampering. It will feel… liberating to tell him how I found my alpha in my own way—the non-traditional way.”

Dean’s grin spread wider at the sound of that, and the longer Castiel dwelled on it, the more excited he was to show Dean off to his oldest sibling.

“So, we thinkin’ Christmas or Thanksgiving to see your brother? ‘Cause one of those holidays we gotta make sure we’re up here with my folks. Ellen’s pies during the holidays are perfect,” Dean asked.

“I imagine that will all depend on our work schedules. I know as management your time off is much more flexible and generous than mine is, and I’ll no doubt be swamped with year-end reports and meetings, and not to mention balancing the boo—”

“Slow down, Cas,” Dean cut him off. “You’re depressing me with all the work talk.”

“I apologize. It’s just the end of the year is equivalent to torture for me. It’s appropriately referred to as hell on earth by most everyone in the department. Last year I worked through Thanksgiving, so this year would be more or less the same.”

“Geez, and I thought end of the year performance reviews were a pain in the ass,” Dean laughed. Despite Dean’s joke, the idea of the end of the year reminded him how much he despised what was coming up. “You know, something Chuck said during our presentation sorta got me thinking about a few things.”

Castiel tilted his head a little to the side as he tried to read Dean’s even expression.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“You—uh—remember how he said he and Amara would invest in us if we opened our own freelance architectural consulting firm?” he hesitantly asked, sending a wave of concern coursing through Castiel’s bones at the sudden shift in Dean’s scent.

“Yes. I recall that,” Castiel answered plainly.

Castiel could see the lump in Dean’s throat that was swallowed down, another clear sign that whatever he was thinking about was weighing on him.

“Yeah—well—I figured maybe he was on to something. You know… you and I running our own consulting firm. Wouldn’t have to worry about company politics and status.”

“You’ve been thinking about this a lot, haven’t you?” Castiel asked.

The tenseness returned to Dean’s body, and he sat up straighter as he drove.

“Just forget I said anything about it. It was a stupid suggestion anyways,” Dean dismissed, letting the bitter scent of rejection seep into his scent.

“Dean… it was far from a stupid suggestion,” Castiel interjected. “I’ve thought about it too, and while I’m sure we’re still far off from doing it… it would be nice to be my own boss.”

Dean turned ever so slightly towards him, making sure that his main focus was still on the road in front of them.

“You’d really consider it?” Dean asked.

“Of course, Dean. It’s not a bad idea, and if it’s something you’re truly passionate about, then I wouldn’t just say no.”

Dean smirked at that, and just as suddenly, they were back to the way they started just moments ago, with Dean mindlessly tapping away on the steering wheel to whatever rock song was playing from one of his many cassettes while Castiel distracted himself watching the scenery pass by. The silence was comfortable, the urge to fill it not once coming over him.

It was Dean who broke it as the last lines of  _ Stairway to Heaven _ faded out from the speakers.

“Some days I don’t know what I did to deserve you, Cas.”

The shock of his admission and the sincerity in his voice warmed Castiel to his core. It led him to think about all that he and Dean had gone through to get here. All of it dating back to that first night at the Sandover Christmas party a year ago.

Thinking back to that night brought a smile to his face.

Dean was supposed to be a fling. A one night stand he’d never have to think about again. Instead, here he was, sitting in Dean’s car, going to visit his family with not a care in the world other than spending the rest of his days being Dean’s mate.

“You deserve good things, Dean. I’m only lucky that you consider me one of them,” he answered.

“Yeah, well, you were a pain in the ass sometimes and made me work for it, but I think it was well worth the wait,” Dean said, clearly trying to steer the conversation away from being too sentimental, but failing, especially as Cas could see him beaming.

And Castiel couldn’t deny that.

For all the fuss he raised at the thought of having a mate, being with Dean, having someone who could love him and satisfy him this way—it was definitely worth the wait, and he wouldn’t have done it any other way.

__________________________________

The Roadhouse by most standards would fit the definition of a dive bar, the place clearly having been around for years and years. But when Castiel followed Dean inside, he realized that there was love and care in every wooden board of the place, and that it wore its history proudly.

He wasn’t sure what to expect when he walked inside, all he knew was that Dean had told him they weren’t going to his parent’s house, but instead the bar his foster mother owned.

“You ready?” Dean asked as they stood outside the door to the bar.

“I believe I am. Nothing I should be scared of, right?” he asked back, focused on the door in front of him.

“Nah. The worst’ll be Jo demanding you tell her everything about yourself. She’s got that crazy overprotective thing like an alpha, just stuck in a beta’s body.”

“Is it wrong that I’m mildly afraid of her?” Castiel laughed.

Dean laughed at that.

“I think we all are. Except Ellen. That lady puts the fear of God even in Jo.”

Dean wrapped an arm around his shoulders, a small gesture to reassure him that everything would be alright. And Castiel could admit that even Dean’s small touches were enough to bring him comfort.

“Relax, Cas. They’ll love you, if only because I love you.”

Castiel nodded and offered Dean a small smile to let him know he was okay. Dean told him he’d be fine, and he had no reason not to trust him.  

Dean opened the door, gently tugging Castiel along with him, and immediately a small blonde that Castiel quickly recognized as Jo homed in on them from behind the counter.

“Well look who finally decided to show his face around here,” she said, a cross between disbelief and irritation marring her face. Castiel could see now that the pictures of her in Dean’s office and apartment did her no justice.

“What, no—welcome home, Dean?” Dean teased. “You have better manners than that, Joanna Beth.”

Jo rolled her eyes, but she hoped across the counter with a shocking amount of grace before practically leaping into Dean, Dean catching her in a bear hug.

“Missed you, asshole,” Jo mumbled as she pressed her face into his neck. Dean’s shy smile, the one he reserved for those moments where he was at ease with everything around him, showed through.

“Yeah, yeah. Missed you too.”

When she unlatched herself from Dean, her attention shifted to Castiel, and he wasn’t quite sure what the look on her face was, but he was both nervous and at ease. The confliction made his stomach churn.

“So, you’re the guy that finally tamed this knucklehead,” she said as she sized him up.

“That would be me. Castiel Novak,” he introduced, hoping his nervousness wasn’t showing through.   

His fears vanished when Jo surprised him with a hug, and he felt firsthand what Dean was talking about when he said Jo was like a hulking alpha stuffed into a tiny beta. Her hug was strong and firm, and despite being almost as big as Dean, Jo’s strength left him feeling inadequate.

“Jo Harvelle, Dean’s much cooler sister. Also, whatever Dean’s told you about me is probably a lie because he’s a jerk.”

Castiel turned to Dean who just rolled his eyes exasperated but clearly amused.

“Careful, Jo,” Dean warned with no edge to his voice.

Jo stuck her tongue out at him.

“You’re just worried that I’ll tell Cas here all your dirty, little secrets.”

“Like Cas would be interested in hearing that.”

Castiel laughed.

“Actually, Dean, I think Jo might have won me over. Never hurts to have blackmail on you for later.”

Dean’s mouth fell open.

“The hell, Cas! You’re supposed to be on my side.”

Jo laughed, and behind them the door to the Roadhouse opened again and Castiel turned to see a woman, Dean’s foster mother, Ellen, walking in, bags in hand.

“I can hear you all the way outside, harassing Dean and his guest,” Ellen chided as she dropped some bags down on the floor. “Alright, where’s my hug. C’mon, let’s go,” she directed at Dean, who made his way over, embracing her. “Missed you, honey. Glad you made it up safe and sound.”

“Missed you too, Ellen.”

Ellen pulled back and then like Jo turned her attention to Castiel, and he knew Ellen was sizing him up. He still remembered some of the things Dean mentioned about her, such as her uncanny ability to discern if she liked a person at first glance. Her scent was a calming but forceful alpha scent, and Castiel knew she was not one to be messed with.

“So you’re Castiel?” she asked, though it didn’t seem much like a question coming from her.

He stuck his hand out for her to shake, but she just smiled and shook her head.

“Oh no, honey. You decided to mate this knucklehead of mine so you’re family now, and family doesn’t shake hands.”

Castiel felt a sudden rush of relief as he fell into her arms, and he realized that she had accepted him as family, just like that.

“Damn it, woman. Can’t you let the boy rest before you crush his spine in one of your death grips?” an older man scolded.

The beard and the flannel were a dead giveaway that it was Dean’s foster father Bobby, but he was joined by a much taller and younger man and a much shorter woman who was carrying a sleeping child.

“Ignore him. He’s just mad that I made him eat healthy all day today, ain’t that right, Bobby?”

Bobby mumbled something under his breath, but patted Castiel on the back heartily.

“Don’t quite know what you see in this idjit son of mine, but I’m glad you’re taking care of him. Now I can sleep better at night,” Bobby said, turning a playful scowl at Dean.

“Geez, I’m not getting any love here tonight, am I?” Dean bemoaned.

“Oh hush, Dean. You know we love you. But you don’t come round here for a long time and of course we’re gonna bust your chops. Wouldn’t be here having a little welcome back party if we didn’t love ya,” Ellen chimed in as she unpacked bags full of chips and cookies, amongst other things.

Bobby sighed and shook his head, but Castiel saw that fatherly grin on his face.

“Welcome to the family,” Bobby said.

“Thank you.”

When Castiel looked over to find Dean again, he saw that he was now standing face to face with Sam. Seeing the way Dean lit up at the sight of his younger brother and his wife and child made Castiel’s skin warm because it was so rare to see him so happy like this. Dean was home and Castiel was only glad that he got a chance to witness it.

“Geez, what are they feeding you in California?” Dean greeted as he approached Sam, pulling his younger brother into a strong hug.

“Shut up, jerk,” Sam teased as he hugged his brother tighter.

“Make me, bitch,” Dean tossed right back.

“Watch the language in front of the kid! You know better,” Ellen scolded.

Dean and Sam were so absorbed in each other that Castiel was certain her words fell on deaf ears.

While he was happy to be here, Castiel felt out of place. Maybe it was because he had never done this before, with anyone. Meeting the family was such a foreign experience that he wasn’t sure what the right thing to say and do was. He was only glad everyone had been so welcoming to him. 

“Cas,” Dean called out, snapping him out of his myriad of thoughts.

“Yes, Dean?”

“C’mere and meet my brother and his family!”

And there it was again. That excitement in Dean’s voice that he had when he got to introduce Castiel as his mate. It never failed to put a smile on his face.

“Sammy here is a lawyer over in California. It’s how he met Eileen who is the freaking best,” Dean introduced as Castiel stood beside Dean facing his brother his wife.

Sam radiated that same level of charm and alpha scent Dean did, and Castiel was realizing that it must be a Winchester thing, no doubt with help from Ellen and Bobby’s parental guidance.

“Nice to meet you, Cas. Dean hasn’t stopped talking about you since he met you,” Sam greeted.

Dean nudged Sam hard, a fleeting mortified look crossing his face, and Sam returned his nudge with one of his own. Soon the two of them had devolved into a fit of play-fighting and name-calling.

“Don’t worry, you get used to it eventually,” Eileen said as she joined him. Baby Jesse was awake now, his tiny fingers dug tight into Eileen’s jacket as he looked at Castiel curiously.

“They seem so happy when they’re together. It’s nice to see him so relaxed and at ease,” Castiel noted as he turned to Eileen. From the corner of his eye, he could see Sam and Dean laughing together over something Dean said.

“I can already tell that Dean’s lucky to have you,” Eileen said.

Castiel raised an eyebrow at that, trying to make sure it didn’t come off questioning or rude.

“How do you think?”

Eileen just smiled. “I can see it his face. Being deaf I can scent people better and Dean’s scent hasn’t been this vibrant ever. You make him really happy.”

Castiel found himself speechless and at an utter loss of what to reply to that with. It shouldn’t be all that surprising to hear, but to see Dean’s family recognize the good he did for Dean made him feel light inside. Now he realized what it was like to have a mate and be a part of a family like this.

Jesse seemed to take pity on him and started fussing, his little limbs flailing in a desperate attempt to communicate something to his mother.

“Are you hungry?” Eileen asked her baby as he continued making a fuss. Castiel watched as Eileen looked over towards the bags that Ellen and everyone had brought in, confusion marring her face when it became obvious that whatever she was looking wasn’t there.

“I thought I brought in his bag,” she said offhandedly.

Sam’s had rejoined them as did Dean, both no doubt alerted to Jesse’s fussing.

Castiel watched as Sam quickly gestured with his hands, and Castiel picked up that he was signing to Eileen.

“I can’t find his bag with his formula and diapers,” she answered back. Sam’s face dropped and Castiel could immediately tell that wasn’t a good sign. Sam signed something again and Eileen sighed.

She turned to the two of them and offered a tiny smile despite her son’s protesting.

“Sam isn’t sure where he put the bag. It might be in the car or he may have forgotten it at the store.”

“I can take care of Jesse while you all look.”

Castiel shocked himself when the offer came out of his mouth, and Dean’s wide-eyed look beside him wasn’t helping either.

“Thanks!” Eileen said. She wasted no time in handing her fussing child over to him, and Castiel was shocked how easy it was to settle Jesse into a comfortable position, laying the baby against his chest. Jesse still protested, but his whines were getting softer.

Eileen had disappeared with Sam out to the car and now it was just Dean, himself, and Jesse who was mouthing on his shirt. While he wasn’t necessarily keen on the baby drool coating his clothes, he was okay with the distraction that kept him from crying.

“Damn, Cas. You’re a natural,” Dean said, grinning fondly. Dean moved beside him, leaning in to get close to his nephew’s face. “Who’s a big man? You’re a big man,” he cooed, earning a little laugh as he stuck his finger out for Jesse to grab and teeth on.

“He’s not fussing anymore,” Castiel noted.

“I think it’s cause he likes you, Cas. You’re pretty good with the little guy.”

“I don’t know how. None of my brothers have children, and I don’t think I’ve been this close to a baby in years.”

Still, the fond smile on Dean’s face, like Jesse was the sun, was etched into Castiel’s brain. He chalked it up to his omega senses, but he knew it was more than that. Dean was around family, and Castiel knew both of them wanted one of their own. He’d spent so long denying that fact that it was hard to come face to face with that realization now.

Thankfully, before the thoughts could overtake his entire train of thought, Sam and Eileen returned, bag in hand, and he turned Jesse back over to them. Jesse didn’t take his eyes off Castiel though, something that didn’t escape his mother’s notice.

“Looks like he’s taken a liking to you.”

Castiel smiled, and he didn’t have to turn to Dean to sense that proud and elated look on his face. His scent said it all.

“Alright, everyone! Listen up!” Bobby called out. Everyone’s attention turned to the older man who had a beer in hand. “We closed down the Roadhouse to have a little celebration for you all. It’s not every day we have the whole gang up here, so take a break, have a drink, and just celebrate everyone being together.”

And just like that, everyone clapped and cheered and soon everyone was off mingling with a few other stragglers that had come in late, all people Dean seemed to know and enjoyed catching up with. Castiel never left his side, and he never protested Dean introducing him to all his old friends as his mate.

Overcoming the obstacle of meeting his family and learning he had their unequivocal support too was an enormous weight off Castiel’s chest. Now that he could relax a little, he knew there were still just a few things left for him and Dean to talk about, but for now he was just glad they could relax together.

 __________________________________

 

They stayed out a little past one socializing with everyone before the Roadhouse cleared out and everyone returned home.

Eileen and Sam disappeared into the guest bedroom and Bobby and Ellen had kissed them both goodnight and gone back to their own. Jo volunteered to stay in the apartment in the Roadhouse to give them some space, which is how the two of them ended up in her room for their time there.

Still as they unpacked and changed into their pajamas, it became apparent that neither of them were tired.

“Hey, Bobby and Ellen have this swing out on the back porch. You wanna sit outside for a bit?” Dean suggested as Castiel emerged from the bathroom.

“That would be pleasant.”

Dean grinned and took Castiel’s hand before leading him through the house and out the back door until they were both seated on the porch under the clear night sky, Dean pulling Castiel close to him.

“Your family is very nice,” Castiel commented.

“You’re not just saying that, are you?” Dean said jokingly.

Castiel laughed quietly before resting his head on Dean’s shoulder.

“No. I’m serious. Everyone was so welcoming and friendly. I felt like I’d known them for years. It’s so unlike my family. Gabriel is the only one who is anything remotely like this.”

“Hey, you’re family now, and we always take care of family.”

Castiel hummed contentedly, and for a moment they just sat quietly, rocking back and forth gently on the swing, soaking in each other’s presence and scent. It was a rare moment of quiet that they couldn’t have back home. Here, being away from the city and everything, he felt like he could breathe for the first time.

“Dean, there’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while and I wanted to talk to you about it,” he said.

“Shoot, Cas.”

Castiel took a deep breath of fresh country air and let it out to center himself.

“I’m thinking of going off all my medications.”

Dean stopped rocking the swing, his full attention now centered on Castiel.

“Wait, really?”

“Mhm. I don’t see a purpose in continuing them, and I don’t see much of a reason to hide our relationship at Sandover any longer.”

Castiel wasn’t sure what to expect from Dean, but the swirling joy and confusion on his face was probably as close to expected as he could get.

“That’s not gonna bother you, smelling like us all day at work?” Dean asked, doubt and hesitation mixed into his tone.

“It won’t affect the quality of my work, so I see no issue with it. Besides, there are other reasons I want to discontinue my medications as well.”

“You gonna fill me in?” Dean asked, turning to face Castiel entirely.

“Of course. I just needed some time to think on it.” Castiel looked up earnestly at Dean, his mate and the man he wished he could gift the whole world to now.

“Alright, you tell me whenever you’re ready, Cas.”

“Dean… I think I might want to have kids one day.” The admission caused a spike in Dean’s scent, but a surprisingly pleasant one. It was another vibrant burst of pine and earth that had Castiel’s body relaxing into Dean like a bear to honey. Dean’s eyes were wide, his mouth hanging open just slightly, and words unable to fall out.

“Jesus—Cas, really?” Dean finally managed to say.

“Obviously, it wouldn’t be tomorrow or anything, and we have a lot to discuss in terms of planning for both our futures, but I was thinking at least within the next three years. But that’s only if you want that.”

“Holy shit, Cas of course!” Dean exclaimed, obvious unconcerned about his sleeping relatives nearby. “I just want to make sure this is something you want. I don’t want you to do this unless it’s what you want and not what you think I want. Cause Cas, you’re more than enough for me.”

“Thank you, Dean. But this is what I want too.” He paused looking at Dean with a content smile before leaning back on the chair. “Seeing you with Jesse made me realize how badly I wanted that for you and for me. I was so caught up in my independence that I never realized it was okay to want a mate or a child.”

“That little stinker’s something isn’t he?” Dean laughed as he referenced his baby nephew.

“He is. I can already tell he’s got that same Winchester charm you have.”

“What can I say. Sammy and I got some good genes.”

“Consider it lucky that our future children will only inherit some of that,” Castiel teased.

“Hey. Not you too. Gotta have someone in my corner while we’re up here,” Dean ribbed, teasingly pushing Cas. Almost immediately after though, Castiel felt Dean wrap an arm around his shoulder pulling him back towards him again and Castiel let himself fall into Dean again, drinking in Dean’s scent like an addict. He finally had a name for Dean’s scent.  _ Home.  _ “Cas. Whatever you want to do is fine with me. Having kids would be freakin’ amazing and I know you’d make one hell of a dad.”

“Dean… thank you. For everything. All of this, being able to admit that I want these things, it’s because you stuck around for me.”

“It’s what mates are for, Cas. You help me and I help you. It’s gonna be that way until we croak in our hundreds.”

“You expect us to live that long?” Castiel said regarding him with a curious glance.

“We got a lot of things to do, Cas. And I don’t plan on stopping until we do it all.” Castiel smiled and laughed, a sense of liberation washing over him. He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt this happy before, and this was only the beginning. “Having a kid is one just of things, you know. And if we’re gonna plan to have one, you and I should really get practicing on that,” Dean muttered, voice low as he took Cas’ earlobe into his mouth, nipping at it gently.

“Dean Winchester, are you trying to proposition me in your parents’ home?” Castiel laughed.

“Won’t be the first time or the last. Bobby and Ellen can sleep through a hurricane. Besides, why not live a little. We got time.”

Castiel wrapped his hand around the back of Dean’s neck and pulled him into a kiss, slow and languid, letting their tongues dance around each other.

When he pulled back, emerald green eyes transfixed with joy were glued to him, and Dean was grinning like a loon. He was only glad to return it with a grin of his own.

“Yes, Dean. We do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it everyone! Thank you so much for reading it! I hope you enjoyed it!


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